


Magical Suicide Squad

by superagentwolf



Series: With Religious Fervor [11]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Ficlet Collection, Gen, Ilvermorny, Magical Suicide Squad, Not Canon Compliant, Pre-Movie 1: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, Series Prequel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-15 19:36:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9252752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superagentwolf/pseuds/superagentwolf
Summary: At Ilvermorny, Graves makes some unusual friends. Their escapades and relationships follow them into adulthood and the Ministry.-The prequel to the series, AKA the origin story of the 'magical suicide squad'. May be read separately or first.





	1. Meetings, Greetings, and Hello

He’s a first-year when he meets Avery Bellbow.

“Congratulations!” the large teen says, clapping him on the back with a grin.

 _Is he really only a year ahead of me? He’s huge._ The boy looks like a Viking, muscled and stout, and his dirty blonde hair is oddly long.

“Thanks…?”

“Avery. Avery Bellbow,” the boy smiles, teeth perfect and white.

 _Well, he’s certainly the ‘body’,_ Graves thinks, and he continues up the steps to his House.

* * *

“You’re a small-ish fellow,” Avery starts, pulling books out of his bag, and Graves raises an eyebrow.

“I’m eleven,” Graves says shortly.

Bellbow’s laugh seems to shake the very school itself.

* * *

He is making his way to Charms one day when he runs into a girl.

“Oh, god- I’m sorry,” she starts, bending to collect the books scattered on the floor.

“No- it’s my fault,” he starts, helping, “I wasn’t paying attention.”

He notices after a moment that she has something on her back. An odd case, or something. _What is that?_

“Are you going to Charms?” he asks, passing a book to her. _Intermediate Protective Spells_.

“Yes. You’re- Wampus? Right?”

“Yes. You’re Pukwudgie.”

Her smile is sweet. She seems kind, he thinks, and friendly. _I wonder if they’re all like this._ He hasn’t had any classes with Pukwudgie yet.

“I’m Andie,” she offers, moving with the crowd of students pushing them towards the classroom.

“Percival Graves.”

“Oh, dear,” she laughs, and he’s surprised at what seems like her insensitivity. Her eyes are bright, though, and then she says, “my full name is Andromeda. It seems like we both got the short end of the stick.”

“Maybe so,” Graves smiles, feeling better, and he wonders at how comfortable he is around her.

_I thought our Houses were supposed to be perfect for us. Maybe it’s because she’s in a different house, though. Change is good._

Andie waves as she leaves him, moving to the other side of the room, and Graves finds himself thinking about the House system. _If we’re surrounded by others like ourselves, maybe the point is to realize not only our strengths but our weaknesses._

* * *

It is a Saturday and Graves is enjoying the weather.

It’s warm and breezy, so he’s trying to find a spot outside to study. The campus is dotted with students and he wonders if anyone is really getting any studying done.

“Percy,” Andie says, and he turns to see her walking his way. There is another boy following her.

“Hi. Who’s this?”

“Ianto,” Andie explains, adjusting the strap of her book bag. “he’s in my House.”

Ianto seems quiet. He has white-blond hair and startlingly grey eyes. He almost looks like a ghost.

“Nice to meet you,” Graves nods, and Ianto opens his mouth to speak but never gets the chance.

There are yells and jeers from a few yards away and Andie’s face changes to one of worry and disgust.

“Oh, no,” she says, casting him a significant look, and then she starts towards the commotion.

Graves sends a questioning look at Ianto but the boy shrugs. _Better to follow her._

There are a group of older students surrounding two other boys. One of them Graves recognizes- an older boy in Wampus, Jordan, two years ahead of him. He’s clearly strong, and Graves doesn’t think the other boy stands a chance. He doesn’t recognize the other boy but he assumes from the group that it’s someone from Horned Serpent. He is tall and thin, with blue-black hair.

“ _Snake_!” Jordan yells, and some of his friends join him in yelling. “I know what you are! What you did! Fight like a real man!”

He pushes the boy’s shoulder, forceful, but the student’s feet stay planted. He barely sways.

“They’re going to fight,” Andie says, worried. “God, this is so stupid- Bertrand hasn’t done anything; they just like picking on him-,”

 _Bertrand,_ Graves thinks. He recognizes the name. He’s heard more than a few nasty comments in passing, from upperclassmen. He’s never gotten himself involved, and he never takes anything for granted- even so, he’d still felt the accusations and gossip to be silly and likely fueled by jealousy or simple intolerance.

“I can get a professor,” Ianto volunteers, but Andie shakes her head and looks towards the school.

“It’s too late- anyways, one of the first-years in Horned Serpent already left.”

In the center of the circle, Bertrand speaks.

“I didn’t do it.”

 _He knows Jordan’s going to hit,_ Graves realizes. _Why did he say that if he knew what would happen?_

He watches Jordan yell something and move and then-

Jordan falls flat on his face.

There’s a moment of silence and then an eruption of laughter. Bertrand stands, hands at his side, watching dispassionately. Jordan growls and Graves looks closer, surprised.

_His shoes are tied together._

He’s wondering if Bertrand did it- but he knows nonverbal and wandless magic is beyond even a third-year. _So who did it_?

Some of Jordan’s friends move to help and they fall on their faces. Before anything else can happen, Graves sees a teacher- Professor Hale- emerging from the school. The group quickly scatters, and as it does, Graves almost runs into another boy.

His dark brown eyes sparkle with mischief as he says,

“Sorry. ‘Scuse me.”

There is only one thing Graves is certain of. _He did it._

* * *

Robert is fully aware that he’s not particularly special.

He’s decent enough in his classes. There are one or two where he excels- the product of too much time and not too many friends.

That’s another thing. He doesn’t really have many friends.

He’s not particularly hurt by it. His early childhood had been unremarkable, characterized mostly by isolation and the quiet of the forest. He hadn’t had any real interaction with others outside of family. In the end, it’s made him more independent- but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t like friends.

“Len, I’m going to practice flying. Coming?”

“Sure. Give me a minute. Here’s your parchment, Rob.”

It’s another example of how he is both included and ignored. Len doesn’t even invite him- he only stops long enough to give back Robert’s things.

It shouldn’t bother him, but lately, it’s been getting more apparent.

He’s bored, and lonely.

* * *

Bertrand is going to his House when Jordan stops him. He’s with his usual friends- two other Wampus boys- and behind him, a group of younger students are walking.

“Hold on, snake. Where are you going?” Jordan asks, voice quiet and icy.

Bertrand glances at the younger students. _They’ll get in trouble if they stay,_ he thinks, and he tries to communicate the thought.

One of the boys, blonde and distinctly Nordic, gives him a significant look and glances at his friend. A serious boy, with black hair and dark eyes.

 _Huh,_ Bertrand thinks, a little amused as he watches the boys walk away. _They’re going to get a teacher. That’s a first, from Wampus kids…_

“First-years can’t help you,” Jordan snorts, and Bertrand turns his attention back to the boy.

“What do you want?”

“I know you’ve been trying to become an animagus. I know you’re the snake that bit Lucy. Too much of a _coward_ to face me as a man, is that it?”

 _So that’s it,_ Bertrand thinks, vaguely annoyed. _What an idiot._ _He thinks I’m a literal snake._

He is about to answer when a student comes around the corner.

A first-year, he can tell, and a Thunderbird. _What’s he doing here? His House is on the other side of the school._ The boy’s face is familiar, somehow. He has wavy brown hair and dark brown eyes.

“Move it, kid,” Jordan says, jerking his head towards the hallway.

The boy doesn’t move. He looks unimpressed.

 _Honestly, sometimes I don’t know if Wampus or Thunderbird is worse,_ Bertrand thinks, exasperated.

“You’re a bully,” the kid says shortly, matter-of-fact, and Bertrand almost chokes.

 _Do you know who this is?_ He tries to ask with his eyes, imploring. _He is a bully. And he’s not afraid to beat up a first-year._

The boy blinks up at Bertrand and his mouth twitches for a second, a smile there and gone again.

_What the-_

“What’s your name, little bird?” Jordan asks, signaling, and his two friends move menacingly around the student.

“Robert. It means ‘shining fame’. A lofty goal, but I try my best.”

 _The little imp,_ Bertrand realizes. _He’s playing for time._

It’s dangerous. But he’s not surprised a boy from the House of adventurers doesn’t care. Jordan and his cronies laugh and Bertrand tenses, thinking. He’s willing to join the fight, if they try to assault the younger boy. There’s nothing more disgusting to him than an unfair fight when it comes to students. All it does is prove something the stronger person already knows.

“Well, _Robert_ , congratulations. Your shining fame has caught my attention. Before we continue, though,” he says thoughtfully, and Bertrand reaches for his wand but is already too late. “ _Petrificus Totalus_.”

He’s never really had the curse performed on him. He immediately decides he doesn’t like it and resolves never to be subject to it again.

He can’t move. He can only watch.

But when Robert looks at him, before Jordan turns, his expression is one of expectant resignation. _As if he expected this._

And maybe he did. Robert seems to make his body limp, allowing the kick to send him to the ground, and he curls tight in a movement that suggests practice. Bertrand wonders, for a moment, if Robert is used to bullying.

A minute- what feels like an age- later, Professor Hale comes barreling around the corner.

“Stop. Now,” the man roars, and Jordan jumps back, face drained of color. “This is the third time this week, Jordan. You three-come with me. Bertrand, take the boy to the infirmary.”

Hale waves his hand and Bertrand exhales, moving experimentally. On the ground, Robert coughs, rubbing his mouth. There’s blood.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Bertrand starts, because it’s true, but he wishes he’d started with something different. Thanks, maybe. Or reassurance.

 _I’m bad at this,_ he thinks.

“Worth it,” Robert sighs, turning over, and Bertrand winces at the dirt and tears in the boy’s robe. “He had one last chance to prove himself to the faculty. Hale said so after the courtyard incident.”

“…you were there?”

Robert looks up, eyes sparkling, and Bertrand feels his heart drop into his stomach. It feels like falling.

“It was you,” Bertrand realizes. “You tied their shoelaces.”

“I’m pretty good at silly spells,” Robert smiles, looking up at the ceiling. “I have too much time on my hands.”

 _He’s been helping me, and I didn’t know,_ Bertrand thinks. He feels a little ashamed. Still, he does the only thing he can think of, extending a hand.

“Come on. You need to get looked at.”

“I’m fine,” Robert gripes, but he still accepts the hand.

_So small._

“You’re Robert, then.”

“Yes. You’re Bertrand.”

“…thank you.”

Robert smiles like the sun and Bertrand could swear the room gets warmer, some strange glow lighting it from within. From Robert.

“You’re welcome.”

* * *

“So Professor Hale helped, right?”

Bertrand pauses, looking vaguely surprised, and Graves waits for an answer.

“Yes. I appreciate it,” the older boy says, glancing at Bellbow.

“Bullies,” Bellbow snorts. “They’ll date a Horned Snake at one point or another. They’re just being stupid.”

Bertrand raises an eyebrow, but Graves can see a half-smile forming.

 _Good,_ he thinks.

“We’re not all bad,” Graves tries. “I hope you know that.”

“…no. We’re not all bad,” Bertrand agrees, the smile fully formed, and Graves fights the flush on his face.

* * *

“I don’t know about his,” a voice says from further down the line.

Graves recognizes the boy. It’s the one from the day in the courtyard; the one he thought helped Bertrand.

“Come on, Robert,” the professor says, and Graves watches. “You’re a Thunderbird. Meant to fly.”

“I’ve never-,” the boy tries, more agitated than scared, but then the broom jolts and he shoots into the air.

“…. oh, dear,” the professor says mildly. “Well. He’ll get the hang of it.”

_You’ve got to be kidding me._

Bellbow raises an eyebrow at Graves.

“Go on, then. I’ll catch you if you fall,” he grins, leaning against the stone wall of the school, and Graves rolls his eyes.

He kicks off easily, gliding upwards, and when he gets closer he almost thinks he shouldn’t have come. The boy seems to be sitting peacefully, eyes closed, suspended above the trees.

“Do you need help?” Graves tries, unsure.

“I am not opening my eyes,” the boy says slowly, “because I think it will most likely unnerve me. I would appreciate your assistance, um...?”

“Percival. But please don’t call me that.”

“Val,” the boy says immediately. _That’s new._ “I’m Robert. I love flying, yes, but I have not flown alone yet. I believe throwing me in the deep end was somewhat of a mistake.”

“You know yourself best,” Graves agrees, and he sees a smile flicker across Robert’s face.

“You probably could have been in Pukwudgie.”

“Probably not.”

“No, maybe not,” Robert laughs. “So, Val…what next?”

“Next, we get you lower.”

He talks Robert through the motions easily enough, and the boy seems to get the hang of descending.

“You could probably try to open your eyes,” he suggests, and Robert pauses.

“If you suggest it,” Robert says mildly, and he opens his eyes.

Graves can see the struggle between acceptance and instinct. _Hm._ He’s about to suggest they speed up a little when someone zips by, a blur of color and steely eyes. _Jordan,_ he thinks, and then he’s watching in horror as Robert is knocked off his broom by the older boy’s shoulder.

He thinks he yells something but he forgets, flying fast, realizing he’s just a little too slow. Later, he wonders why Robert didn’t scream.

It doesn’t matter, though, because Graves pulls up hard a moment after he sees Bellbow, determined, catch Robert as he falls.

 _Thank god,_ Graves thinks, relief flooding his system, and he casts Bellbow a grateful look.

“Hello, handsome,” Robert says cheekily, but his voice is a little shaky.

Bellbow blinks and looks at the smaller boy in his arms. He laughs, booming, and Graves smiles apologetically at Robert.

“I like this kid,” Bellbow chuckles, and to his credit he doesn’t let Robert down.

 _He knows he’s still a little scared,_ Graves thinks, and he feels his respect for Bellbow grow just a little more.

“I’m sorry,” he starts, trying to apologize for not paying attention, but Robert shakes his head.

“Jordan’s going to have it out for me. It’s fine.”

“You’re quite small,” Bellbow says, still holding Robert as Graves follows them with the broomsticks. “I could probably use you as a weight training partner.”

“Or as a weight,” Robert laughs, and Bellbow laughs along with him.


	2. Set the Night on Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The holidays are always more fun with friends.

“Good. Remember to dodge!” Bellbow calls across the field.

Graves pulls himself upright, glancing around. Campus is almost entirely empty- most students have left for the holidays. He’s one of the few left- along with Andie, Avery, and Bertrand. They’ve been spending time together, relaxing. In Graves’ case, he’s been practicing dueling with Avery.

“I’m able to block,” Graves yells back, almost breathless, and he moves a few steps back. “but my counterattacks need work. I need to be faster.”

“You’re _eleven,_ ” Andie yells from the base of a tree, snorting as she sets her book aside. “You’re not supposed to be good at this yet!”

“I aim to exceed expectations,” Graves says, grinning, and Bellbow laughs.

“Ready?”

“Ready!”

* * *

“I think Professor Hale is still on campus,” Andie says, smiling, and Graves almost spits his juice out.

“…that’s…nice,” he manages, trying to ignore her.

“Why don’t you give him a Christmas present?” Bellbow teases, grinning. “He _is_ your idol.”

“He’s not my- he’s a _very_ accomplished wizard,” Graves corrects, trying to hide his face.

Across the table, Bertrand raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. He doesn’t speak, though. _Now that I think about it, it’s been a while since he’s said anything,_ Graves realizes, frowning a little.

“Bert, what have you been doing lately? We haven’t seen you around,” he notes, hoping the older boy will answer.

Bertrand raises his eyebrows, feigning innocence, and he chews on the straw he’s holding on the right side of his mouth.

“Come, friend,” Bellbow laughs. “What are you hiding? Secret girlfriend?”

Bertrand shifts, looking a little uncomfortable. _Hm._

“Not a girl,” Andie submits, taking a waffle from the middle of the table. “Hm. He’s hiding something, though.”

They’re still talking around Bertrand when Professor Hale walks up.

The man has dark hair and forest eyes. _He’s an animagus, too,_ Graves remembers. _A wolf!_

“Bertrand. If you’ll come with me. I have some material to discuss with you.”

Andie casts a significant look at Graves. Bellbow grins, shoving a biscuit in his mouth. He waves their friend off, winking at Graves.

_Oh, shut up._

* * *

_Merry Christmas._

_I charmed your presents so that you wouldn’t find them until Christmas Day. I figured Avery wouldn’t be able to wait to open his. Anyways, I hope your break is going well. Try not to get expelled while I’m away. I’d hate to waste half my break writing an appeal letter on your behalf. See you soon!_

_\- Robert_

Graves grins when he reads the letter. Bellbow snorts in his ear- _I could have waited_ \- and Graves shakes his head at the older boy.

“Come on, Ave. Open it.”

He’s a little surprised when he sees that it’s an iron bracelet, stamped with curious symbols. Judging by Bellbow’s expression, though, he knows it must be something special.

“What a gift,” the boy smiles, pulling it on. “That was kind of him. It must have taken him _weeks_ to charm it. Go on,” he encourages, nodding at the other present.

It is, funnily enough, a pair of black gloves. They spark a little when he touches them. There’s another note inside the box- _They’re charmed, so you’ll still feel right when holding your wand_ \- and he laughs at the postscript. _I know you’ll practice all break anyways, so at least your fingers won’t fall off now._

“He knows us well,” Bellbow says, pleased, and Graves nods.

“That he does.”

* * *

He’s trying to sleep at night when he hears it.

There’s a noise, strange, echoing from the trees. He pauses, thinking. _The forest isn’t that dense,_ he thinks. _I don’t think it’s a bear._ The sounds are strange, almost strangled, and it unsettles him. He wants to investigate but he thinks it’s probably nothing

_Probably._

So he tries to sleep, and when the noise dies down, he tells himself it’s probably nothing.

Except it comes back. The next night, and the next, and then it’s almost like an alarm clock with its timing.

“Have you heard anything strange at night?” he asks Bellbow one morning, leaning against the arm of the couch.

The boy’s long legs are spread across the length of the couch, clad in flannel. The older boy tilts his head back, thinking.

“No. You haven’t been sleeping well?”

“No, I can sleep fine- it’s just odd. Something in the trees.”

Bellbow frowns, but he’s generally unconcerned, and Graves resolves to forget about it. But still, something tugs at him.

* * *

_Robert_

_Bertrand’s been acting strange. He’s much more quiet. Andie suspects it has something to do with Professor Hale, but I think she’s just teasing me. Anyways, it’s been a few weeks and he doesn’t talk at all, really. Maybe you can figure out what’s going on with him._

_Avery loves your gift. I have no clue what it is, but sometimes he just grins at it. I’ve been dueling with him in the afternoon. Thank you for the gloves- they really help. It’s been strangely cold lately._

_It’s been a good break. I hope your family is well. Can’t wait to see you._

_\- Graves_

* * *

Robert smiles to himself when he walks through the doors.

It’s only been a few weeks but he had already missed the school. His friends, mostly- but also the school. The beauty of it.

It’s late and he hopes the others are asleep, or at least in their House rooms. He’s hoping to surprise them. He makes his way towards the staircase, and as he’s walking to his room, he sees an open door and a light.

_Someone’s awake,_ he thinks, and he realizes it’s a classroom door. _Hm. Suspicious._

He’s never been in trouble but he’s curious and he thinks it’s unlikely the culprit is a student. When he walks towards the doorway, he hears shuffling noises.

Bertrand is inside.

_He’s doing something,_ Robert thinks. _I wonder if this will prove me right…_

As he watches, Bertrand sighs, rotating his shoulder. He drops a few things into a dish, pointing his wand and murmuring something unintelligible.

“I knew it,” Robert whispers, unable to help himself, and Bertrand starts.

“Rob-,”

“Hello, Bert,” Robert grins, stepping inside.

As curious as he is, he still takes the time to hug the older boy. It feels nice to hug someone, he thinks, and he can understand what people mean when they say _touch-starved_.

“What are you doing back?”

“I convinced my parents. You’ve been worrying the others, you know,” he reprimands. “they think you’re in trouble. Meanwhile, here you are, becoming an Animagus.”

Bertrand’s expression turns serious. _Here we go,_ Robert thinks. _Now he’ll tell me I can’t tell them._

“You can’t tell them.”

“Bert, please. They’re your _friends_ -,”

“I don’t-,” Bertrand starts, searching for words.

_Has he always been bad with words, or is it the not-talking part that’s left him at a loss?_

“I understand,” Robert says, quiet. “I’ll respect your decisions. I just hope you know they would never betray you in any way.”

Bertrand pauses, eyes soft, and Robert smiles. _What a worrywart,_ he thinks. _Always trying to plan a way out._

“…thank you. I know.”

Robert turns to leave, still smiling, and then he turns on his heel.

“I have a condition, though: don’t tell them I’m here. I’ll surprise them in the morning.”

As he leaves, he hears Bertrand chuckling.

* * *

“Noises?”

Robert pauses with his spoon at his mouth, staring.

“Yeah. Not much- just…something weird. It doesn’t really sound like any animal I know.”

Graves watches Robert set his spoon down, glancing around the table.

“Has anyone else heard them?”

The others are quiet.

“Avery sleeps like the dead,” Graves sighs. “and of course Bert hasn’t. Andie?”

“…I listen to music,” she admits, looking sorry. “but I’m sure you’ve heard something. I’m just not sure what. We have protected woods, you know; it could be a magical creature, too.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Robert sighs, digging in his bag.

“One would think you’d be stronger, carrying a library around,” Bellbow chuckles, but it’s a good-natured remark.

Robert rolls his eyes, but he snorts.

“Funny. Listen- the school grounds _are_ protected sanctuaries, but dangerous creatures aren’t permitted near the school. From what you’re saying, though, I think it _might_ be something dangerous you’re hearing.”

“…like what,” Bertrand asks, sliding into a seat, and Graves raises an eyebrow at Andie.

_So **now** he talks, _ he thinks, amused. _And why? Because Robert’s back?_

“Nice to talk to you again, dear,” Andie smirks at Bertrand.

Bellbow snorts into his juice.

“I _think_ ,” Robert continues, firm, “that it may be a Hidebehind.”

“What might be?” Bertrand asks, sounding serious.

“Percy’s been hearing something,” Andie submits.

“The weird noises, the fact you can’t see anything- it’s likely,” Robert tries.

“If it’s a Hidebehind, we need to tell a professor,” Bertrand says. “They’re dangerous. They’ve killed people before.”

“Killed? Wait- how would one of these get on campus?” Graves asks.

_I can’t believe something like this would be able to get close to the school._

“I don’t know,” Robert admits. “We _could_ try to investigate…”

“ _No_ ,” Andie hisses, glancing down the table at the few other students. “Absolutely not- it’s bad enough at night; what if it _is_ a Hidebehind?”

“Okay, listen- we _could_ just go to a professor,” Bellbow interrupts, waving a large hand, “but what fun is that? Besides, it’s probably _not_ a Hidebehind. It may just be a coyote. In that case, we experience local wildlife while also humiliating Percy for being paranoid.”

“Classy,” Andie retorts, shaking her head, but she’s smiling despite herself.

“Well. I suppose ten o’clock is the time, then,” Robert suggests. “Bundle up. It’s cold at night.”

* * *

“This is a terrible idea,” Andie whispers harshly, looking for all the world like she’s ready to stupefy them all and go back inside.

_I wouldn’t put it past her._

“Shh, dear, you’ll give us away,” Robert reprimands.

They’re barely a few feet into the forest when Graves hears it.

“…yeah. That,” he mutters.

“…you’re right, that _is_ strange,” Bellbow wrinkles his nose, looking around the trees.

“Robert? What do you think?”

“Stop moving,” Robert says suddenly, serious, and Graves freezes in his tracks.

“…what?”

“Shhh.”

The noise echoes, then stops.

“Where did it go?” Andie whispers.

“…you can’t see it directly,” Robert whispers. “It hides behind trees. Don’t look for it. You’ll see it from the corner of your eye, when you’re not looking.”

_Unsettling,_ Graves thinks, but he grips his wand tightly. He knows enough to know how to protect himself. He thinks.

“We need to go back,” Andie says.

“We can’t,” Robert whispers. “I’ve already seen it.”

There’s a loud snap and Graves swivels, firing a quick _petrificus totalus_ in the general direction. _I almost saw it,_ he thinks. _Something moved in my peripheral._

“Good,” Robert says, backing away a few steps. “Head back to the castle. _Don’t look for it._ ”

They’re only a foot or two from the edge of the trees when something barrels into Bellbow.

Spells erupt from all sides. Graves can hear Andie yelling and Bertrand is somewhere, covering them, urging them forward.

He sees it. Black, malformed, a strange mass of hair or maybe feathers, swallowing all other darkness. It makes him shiver but he continues, focusing. Bellbow is on his feet already, growling, wand ready.

“We’ve already seen it,” Robert manages, gasping, pulling everyone close into a circle. “we have to fight. Stay close together. Deflect and attack. We might be able to run it off.”

The creature moves and Graves bites the inside of his cheek, fighting the repulsion in his chest. The thing seems to warp, squeezing itself behind a tree. _Hidebehind,_ he thinks. _Clever name._

“Move back, everyone, slowly,” Bertrand whispers harshly. “Stay in formation.”

They inch back, careful, and then someone steps on a twig and the _snap_ is followed by the creature’s dark shadow. Bellbow yells and fires a spell and then Graves is fighting, shielding and firing off curse faster than he can think. They make their way towards the castle, slow but steady, and Graves thinks _maybe we’ll make it._

It’s what he thinks, and then something knocks him off his feet and as the others struggle to close ranks around him he hears it making the noise again.

_No,_ he thinks, reaching for his wand, _no,_ and then Andie moves to the front of the group. He can hear the others yell her name and then she opens her mouth, unafraid.

“ _Immobulus!_ ” It is a _scream_ , fury and energy channeled into the word, and Graves blinks as a lighting-bright flash hits them.

Somehow, miraculously, the creature is frozen in its tracks.

“…well, done, darling,” Robert breathes. “Well done.”

“I suggest we _move_ ,” Bertrand says quickly, hoisting Graves up, and they start running.

When they reach the tree line they hear the noise again and Andie spins on her heel, preparing.

“Fire on three,” Bellbow commands, wand rising, and Graves falls into place among the group.

They stand, side by side, and wait. When it emerges, Bellbow yells.

“ _One! Two!_ ”

Their wands, raised and trained, are joined by their unified voices.

“ _Incendio!_ ”

* * *

“…I won’t ask _why_ you were outside at night,” Professor Hale begins, staring at the group. “and I will _not_ ask why you felt compelled to follow strange noises in the forest. For now, consider yourselves lucky to be alive.”

“…yes, sir,” Graves answers, glancing sideways at his friends.

Bellbow is trying his best not to look pleased or excited. Bertrand is studiously expressionless. Andie looks energized, but vaguely miserable. Robert…well, Robert is Robert.

“Now. Bed, all of you. And please try not to find any more dangerous creatures to fight until the term is _over_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't forget about Ianto. Oh, and the Doors (chapter title) would be hilarious to a montage of antics from these guys.  
> I hope you enjoyed! I wasn't sure if I wanted to wait on this story collection or not, but I felt like I needed a short break from writing Credence & Graves to get back into the swing of things. I really wanted to explore our favorite magical squad since I left the main story on a solid note. As always, enjoy, and I let me know if there's something you want to see!


	3. A (Big) Bird Told Me...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friends can have secrets. With trust and respect, they might be shared.

“It’s nice to be home,” Bellbow grins, and Graves has to agree.

It’s his second year and the summer had passed in a blur of extra lessons and family functions. _Keep up appearances, dear,_ his mother had said. _We may not be the most famous family, but we must make ourselves necessary. Indispensable._

Now more than ever he’s less interested in his ‘legacy’ and more interested in the friends he’s left at school.

“Did you _grow_ over the summer?” Graves asks, amused.

_He’s only a year older than me. So he’s thirteen now, since his birthday is over the summer. How the hell does he grow so much?_

“You’ll catch up,” the older boy laughs, slapping Graves on the back, and Graves winces a little.

_Ow._

* * *

The ceremony is almost about to start when Graves hears quick footsteps tapping towards him. He turns, vaguely interested, and is almost floored.

“Andie?”

She smiles, pulling Ianto with her, and Bellbow greets them with a hug.

“Hey.”

“You cut your hair,” Graves says, still a little surprised.

She looks different with short hair. Not too much, but enough.

“…I did,” she says, hesitating, and he wonders why.

“Where are the other two?” Ianto asks, offering an open package of jelly beans to Bellbow.

“Robert left a minute ago to find our elusive friend,” Bellbow explains, picking a few beans out of the bag. “He was a bit aggravated, I think.”

“More than a bit,” Bertrand says sarcastically, sliding into the group, and Graves almost spits his juice out when he sees the boy’s face.

As it is, he feels the juice back up his nose.

“B-Bert,” Andie manages, holding back her laughter. “Um. That’s a nice color on you.”

The boy fingers his dark purple hair, shaking his head.

“Ceremony’s starting,” Robert says innocently, and then they crowd around the balcony.

 _It’s going to be a good year,_ Graves thinks.

* * *

“I need to tell you all something,” Bertrand starts, and Graves glances at Bellbow.

The boy shrugs, taking a bite from his cherry licorice.

“I think…we know,” Andie starts, nervous, and Graves looks at her, confused.

_We do?_

Robert coughs, but it sounds strange and Graves shoots him a look.

“I don’t think you do,” Robert manages, biting back a smile. “Just…let him finish.”

“So you know?” Ianto asks, perceptive as usual.

“He knows,” Bertrand interrupts. “but not because I told him. He’s just annoyingly smart like that.”

Robert aims a kick at Bertrand’s leg and Graves shakes his head. _I swear, they’re the worst._

“Why don’t you just tell us?” he offers, amused.

The group is silent.

They’re outside, in a small clearing by the forest. It’s their favorite meeting place, and it’s far enough from the school that most other students don’t come close. It hadn’t seemed suspicious when Bertrand had told them he wanted to talk there. Now, however…

“I’m an Animagus,” Bertrand finally says.

_Oh._

“Oh,” Andie says, blushing, and Graves wonders what she had thought Bertrand would say. “Bert- you didn’t have to tell us. I know it’s usually a good secret to keep-,”

“It is,” the older boy says, “but I trust you. All of you. I know you wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“You’re right. We wouldn’t. You’re our friend, and we will respect your trust in us,” Bellbow says firmly, pointing a licorice stick at Bertrand.

Ianto giggles at the scene and Andie has to laugh a little, too, because even though Bellbow is serious the picture he makes is too endearing _not_ to laugh at.

“That’s why you were so quiet that month, isn’t it?” Andie asks.

“The mandrake leaf,” Graves says, smiling. “That’s why you didn’t talk?”

“It’s harder than it seems,” Bertrand grumbles, but he looks relieved.

“I _told_ him he was being unnecessarily sneaky,” Robert says and Graves smiles.

“I’m sure you did.”

“So what _is_ your form? If you don’t mind?” Bellbow inquires, chewing on his licorice.

“I haven’t shown anyone yet,” Bertrand admits. “I’ve been practicing. But I think it’s a good time to show you.”

 _Interesting,_ Graves thinks. He’d thought about Animagi before- it’s a choice, he knows, and even after the study some cannot completely master the form. Still, he’s considered the benefits. He knows that if he wants to become an Auror, having a form could be helpful. Considering the amount of time it would take from his other studies, though, he’s thought it would be best not to.

Bertrand, though, seems like a good candidate.

As they watch, Bertrand steps back, turning, and suddenly there’s a downwards shift. Graves can see the black of the boy’s suit bleed into everything else, the color blending, blue-black and purple spiraling across a feathered body. It is instantaneous; almost like the disapparations Graves has seen before.

“Wow, you’re a _huge_ Raven,” Andie manages, blinking, and then the silence is broken.

It isn’t just her comment, though. It’s also Robert, whose snorting laughter practically _explodes_ from his body. Graves casts a look at Bellbow, who he is shocked to find stifling his laughter.

“It’s…so _perfect_ ,” Robert manages, still giggling convulsively, and he’s practically lying sideways on the grass. “a _raven,_ Bert, I can’t-,”

“Robert, calm down,” Graves admonishes, a little too amused to make himself sound stern.

Now that he thinks about it, it really is perfect.

* * *

“Where’s Bert?”

“Still sulking,” Bellbow snorts, taking an enormous bite of his apple.

“Honestly,” Andie huffs, stabbing a piece of pineapple, “I can’t believe him. His ego can be so fragile.”

“I don’t think it was just his ego,” Ianto supplies, raising an eyebrow. “I think it was also Robert.”

“He wasn’t laughing _at_ him,” Graves tries. “Or, not really.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Andie sighs. “It was Robert.”

“What was me?” Robert asks, appearing with an apple in his mouth.

“You need to talk to Bertrand,” Andie says immediately, in a tone that brooks no argument.

“…you can’t be serious. Is he _still_ hiding?” Robert asks, incredulous.

“I think he was somewhat injured by your laughter,” Bellbow submits, taking another bite.

“I wasn’t laughing _at_ the idiot,” Robert says, incredulous, and Graves ducks his head further into his bowl.

 _So much drama,_ he thinks. _Really, I wish…what? Something. They’re so odd, dancing around each other half the time. Or at least Bert does._

“I think the issue is that it was _you,_ friend,” Bellbow says, and there’s a small bit of seriousness in his voice. “He is a fool. But an honest one.”

Robert thumps his apple on the table, determined, and Graves almost jumps at the noise.

“… _what_?” he asks Robert, exasperated.

“I’ll be back. Watch my apple.”

* * *

 _An honest fool,_ Robert thinks to himself, annoyed, gripping the edge of the window. _I’d rather he just be honest._

The Astronomy tower is abandoned, classes out and the professor elsewhere. Robert’s at least glad he’s mostly alone, save for the raven he’s seen perched on the roof for the last week. Bertrand.

“I swear, if I fall, I’m going to curse his feathered ass,” Robert growls, setting a foot on the roof.

In most cases, he wouldn’t bother. Considering that it’s Bertrand, though, and it’s been a week, he has no patience for the sulking. _I should have brought a broom,_ he thinks, but it’s too late to worry about it.

He’s about to move from the roof to the pinnacle of the tower when his foot slips a little.

He makes a noise- something surprised-sounding, he’s sure- and the raven _quorks_ in alarm. Robert throws a hand out, stomach dropping a little in worry, and his hand scrapes the shingles painfully. He stops falling, though, and he raises his head to glare at the bird.

“Oh, _go_ on, you _vazey_ \- you should have been a _pigeon_!!! _God_ , I can’t believe you- you remember that _I’m_ the twelve year-old, right?!”

The bird ducks its head and Robert huffs, aggravation wearing down, and pulls himself up onto the flat junction of the roof. _So sensitive,_ he thinks. _Silly, sensitive, honest Bertrand._

“Come _here,_ bird,” he sighs, extending his hand.

Bertrand pauses, head tilting sideways, eyes fixed on the hand.

“Come _on,_ ” Robert insists, beckoning.

It takes a moment, but the raven hops forward, weight surprising. _He really is a big bird,_ Robert thinks. He pulls his hand in close, holding the bird against his chest, peering out at the campus.

“It’s beautiful from up here,” he says quietly, and he means it.

The raven makes a small noise and he chuckles, looking down. _His feathers are soft,_ he thinks. _I wonder if his hair is like that, too._

“I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings. You have to remember not to take me seriously.”

The bird nips at his shirt. He laughs, surprised.

“So you _do_ have some bite. Good job, Bert.”

There’s a ruffle of feathers, huffy, and he smiles. _It really is beautiful._

“Once we get down,” he says playfully, “I’m still kicking you for making me climb up here.”

* * *

“Oh, _honestly,_ ” Andie huffs, but she’s smiling. “Come on. Give me your hand.

Robert looks wind-ruffled and his bloody hand is bright red against his dark robes. Bertrand looks happier, Graves notices, but appropriately embarrassed.

“Who’s up for some friendly dueling?” he asks mildly, glad that things are back to normal.

Bellbow cheers from behind the couch, barreling over, and Ianto cackles when the boy flips over the sofa.

_Everything’s back to normal._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is turning into a ridiculous dump for borderline crack-y escapades. I can't deal with these fools...anyways, I hope you enjoyed this recounting of the tale Bertrand mentioned in Chapter 1 of Synchronicity.


	4. Happiness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's summer, and Robert decides Graves needs a new experience. They grow a little closer, and Graves learns things about himself and his friend.

The summer before his third year, Graves stays with Robert.

It’s surreal.

His parents are both away on MACUSA business- something important, he gathers, because usually they’re never gone at the same time. He is given the chance to stay at home, and so he does. And then Robert sends him a letter.

_I’ll be in town next week,_ it says, and he can hear the bounce in the boy’s voice. _I’d love to drop by, if you don’t mind. You’re far too serious to spend the summer by yourself. Until then!_

He panics.

It’s been two years since he’d met the strange group of friends he hangs around. They’re oddballs, to be sure, but they’re _his_ oddballs. Even though he knows they’re all a bit strange, he still can’t help feeling uneasy when he thinks about how they might react to him outside of school. His family.

There’s a legacy resting on his shoulders. It’s heavy.

So when Robert appears, sudden and breathless, Graves thinks for a moment _this is it_.

“ _Dear_ Val, are you home _alone_?”

His gaze is sympathetic and blazing all at once as he stands, a bag slung across his chest, overgrown hair ruffled in the breeze. He looks more relaxed than Graves has ever really seen him.

“MACUSA business,” Graves tries to explain, nervous, very aware of his unbuttoned shirt and the way he’s sitting cross-legged under a tree. “It’s really not for long, only about a month-,”

“A _month?_ Oh, no, this won’t do,” Robert says brusquely, marching towards the house, and Graves scrambles to his feet after him.

“Rob- Robert, what are you doing-,”

“You’re not spending summer alone. Come on. I’ll help you get some things together.”

He smiles and walks as if it is nothing- as if the sprawling mansion, with its gothic points and atmospheric stone walls, is any other town house in the city. As if Graves is simply _Val_ , a school friend who is alone in the months before school starts.

_I love my friends,_ Graves thinks with sudden fierce dedication, and he laughs when Robert is caught off guard by a statue in the entryway.

* * *

He’s not sure what he thought. Whatever it was, though, it wasn’t this.

_That sums Robert up, though,_ he thinks with some humor.

The house is unusual. It sits by the coast, a cozy one-story residence with wild roses growing around the perimeter. There is something distinctly Spanish about the yellow trim and sky-blue walls inside; every room seems to be lit from within. _Just like him,_ Graves thinks, amused.

Robert’s father is away, traveling for work.

“Ever the ambassador,” Robert sighs, helping Graves set up in an extra bedroom. “he’s the people’s man.”

“So _that’s_ where you get it from,” Graves murmurs, and Robert says _what_ and he just smiles and shakes his head.

Robert’s younger sister, Clara, is eight years old. She is a quiet thing, prone to hiding whenever Robert and Graves appear.

“You’re sure it’s all right if-,” Graves starts, but Robert immediately cuts him off.

“Don’t let her fool you. She’s prone to tying all of my shoelaces together. She’s not shy; she’s just assessing your weaknesses,” Robert grins, wiggling his eyebrows.

In the afternoon, Robert’s mother appears, gliding into the kitchen.

She is, on first impression, a force of nature. Graves can see Robert’s genes in her immaculately curled, dark brown hair. There is a passion about her as she sighs, setting her leather bag by a side table, twirling into the kitchen where Graves immediately hops off the counter, blushing and embarrassed.

“Robert, _amor,_ where _is_ my lunch?”

“Blue box.”

Graves glances at Robert, looking for a cue, but the boy continues to dice tomatoes. The bright red stove is waiting, eggs and other omelet fare lined up by the side of a pan.

“ _Maravilloso_. You always know what I want,” she smiles, idly using her free hand to wave her wand, like an orchestra conductor, kitchen table readying itself obediently.

“Ma’m…I, um-,” Graves starts, burning inside, wondering _why did I speak_ , and then the woman pauses, hazel eyes lighting on him.

“ _Mijo_ , don’t be rude,” the woman says, raising an eyebrow at Robert imperiously.

Simply by her tone, Graves can tell she’s amused. A little used to whatever this is- _bringing home strays?_

“This is Percival Graves,” Robert says easily, wrist flicking as he flips the omelet in the pan.

“Graves,” the woman repeats, recognition in her eyes. “Well, welcome to our home, dear.”

“It’s lovely,” Graves tries, a little relieved. “and thank you. I don’t want to impose-,”

“No, _cariño_ , none of that. You are _more_ than welcome,” she says fondly.

* * *

The seaside is oddly bright and warm. It’s only a few minutes’ walk away from house and Robert insists they go, saying something about _shells, Val, I can’t believe you’ve never gone collecting shells_ , and he unabashedly swings a bright yellow bucket in one hand.

The sand is white and shifting, strange under his feet. It’s a little odd to be walking barefoot outside, he thinks, and he can already hear his mother- _you have shoes, wear them, and a young man should be riding or cultivating his mind_ \- reminding, as always.

“Look. A spiral,” Robert says, brown eyes honeyed in the sun. “isn’t it beautiful?”

“What do you do with these?”

“Do I have to do something?”

Graves leans back on his heels, taking in Robert’s amused smile.

“…no,” he says, fighting a wider smile.

If there’s one thing he’s learning around Robert, it’s to enjoy things. _Maybe there doesn’t have to be a point,_ he thinks. _If it makes you happy, isn’t that a point?_

“I have a bottle- I put sand in it, and a few shells on top. I take it to school and keep it by my bed. It helps me remember home.”

_Home. Remember home._

Graves wonders, for a second, what makes him think of home. For a minute, he feels an irrational fear. _What is home?_ He can’t think. He thinks maybe the gothic architecture, which he _does_ love, but even that isn’t quite right. _The greenness? The statues with their weeping eyes?_ He isn’t sure that it’s his parents- he knows they love him, and he loves them, but there is a thinness of affection in their relationship.

_What is my home?_

“What is a home,” Graves says, forgetting for a moment where he is and who he’s with.

He is still staring at the shoreline when he feels a hand encircling his wrist. He starts, surprised, and Robert leans closer, a stubborn wave hanging in front of his eye.

“Home is a feeling,” he says, quiet but sure. “these shells are from a place, yes- but it’s what I think of that makes them important. My family. Laughter. Trips to the beach. Learning defensive spells in the sand. It’s not the beach. It’s the memory. The happiness.”

“Home is happiness,” Graves says, smile returning, and Robert’s eyes twinkle.

“Yes,” he agrees, “home is happiness.”

* * *

“I’m taking your sister to Greenlake,” Lena says, black skirt flaring like a dark tulip as she spins around the room.

_Lena,_ Robert had said at night, cross-legged on the floor of the guest room, chewing cherry licorice. _She likes the way dad says it. With his accent._

_And your father?_

_Aurelio. Golden,_ with a grin. _Mom says he looked gold, too, at the conference in Spain. Where they met._

He wonders what it’s like. To have parents- a family- so open with their love.

“Dad?”

“He’ll be home in a few days. Right before the week you leave, I think. He’ll take you to stay at the inn. Percy, would you like Aurelio to take you home when he arrives? Do your parents expect you back?”

For a moment, he almost says _yes._ _Yes, they’ll want me there. Even if they aren’t there._

“No,” he says instead, almost not believing the word as it leaves his mouth. “I’ll just have my things sent to me.”

She smiles, approving, as if she’d hoped for the answer.

“You boys have fun,” she says by way of parting, and then she leaves, Clara close behind.

* * *

Aurelio is golden in every sense of the word.

He is a handsome man, tanned and glowing, with honey-colored eyes. Even his hair is a caramel color, thick and wavy were it falls over his high cheekbones.

_If this is what Robert looked like,_ he thinks dazedly, _he would have less of a time getting attention at school._

“Percival,” the man says slowly, and the _r_ is almost purred. “Such a somber name for a young man. “ _Val_ ,” he decides, and the _a_ is short and flavored with a distant Spanish accent.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Graves says, smiling.

_This is why Robert looks like the sun is shining through him,_ he thinks. _It must be his father. His father is the sun._

“Well, tomorrow we’re going to the inn,” Aurelio says, and he moves like he’s on the verge of dancing, light feet and broad movements. “ _A ver,_ ” he says then, running fingers through his son’s hair, laughing. “ _Roberto_ needs a haircut, no?”

Robert pouts and Graves laughs, because the man’s laughter is infectious, and he thinks he hasn’t laughed so much in his entire life.

* * *

Bellow Avenue is, Graves thinks, one of his favorite places to visit.

The shops line the underground street like stacked shoeboxes, a little uneven and different but somehow organized. The pavement underfoot is dark, charms sparkling softly in the dim light. It is a marvel, he thinks, this underground city of the wizarding world. It’s one of many, of course, but its location makes it a popular choice; it’s directly beneath the city.

“Wait here,” Robert says, groaning as he crawls out of bed in the morning. “Dad wants me to get my hair cut.”

Graves barely murmurs in acknowledgment, turning over in the inn’s small bed.

He sleeps for another hour and a half, greedy, thinking with pleasure when he wakes up that his mother would have woken him long ago. _But I’m not at my house,_ he thinks, _and I’m not with my parents. It’s only me, and my friend. And he doesn’t judge me._

He doesn’t button the last button on his shirt. He wears his older shoes, disregarding the small scuffs in the sides. He even mostly ignores his hair, settling for combing it through with his fingers.

He is _relaxed_.

* * *

“Robert!”

Graves blinks, turning, abandoning his torment of Robert to watch Bellbow make his way towards them. _Does he ever stop growing?_ The boy looks even more athletic than Graves remembers, and his dirty blond hair is tied back lazily.

“Avery,” Graves grins, tilting his head a little. “what are you doing here?”

“Same as you, I suspect,” the boy grins, and then his eyes land on Robert. “Rob! Whatever happened to your _lovely_ head of hair?”

Robert sniffs, pouting, and Graves stifles his laughter.

“My father believes it grows too fast,” he says, fingering the top layer of waves, the only thing left after the rest was shaved short.

“You still look marvelous, friend,” Bellbow chuckles, slapping his shoulder. “Andie and Ianto will meet us in an hour or so. _Bertrand_ is already somewhere around, I believe.”

Graves fails to stifle his laughter when Robert perks up.

* * *

“Bertrand,” Graves says, surprised, as the older boy pulls him behind a bookshelf in the shop.

_He looks different._ A little less thin, a little more lithe. _Fifteen,_ Graves realizes. _Already a fifth-year._

“Is Rob here?”

“Yes, why-,”

Bertrand sighs, glancing around the corner, and Graves is a little bemused.

“I think something’s wrong. I’ve seen twice the number of MACUSA around here- Andie and Ianto said they saw more getting in, too.”

“MACUSA? Wait, where are Andie and-,”

“By Giorgio’s,” Bertrand says hastily, ushering Graves to the door. “Go there. All of you-,”

His words are cut off, abrupt, and there is a deafening explosion.

* * *

“Something is wrong,” his father says, quiet.

“Yes,” Robert agrees, glancing down the street. “Go.”

The man pauses, fond and proud, and Robert tries his best to smile.

“Your mother and I will write,” his father promises.

He disapparates in a small _crack_ and Robert looks at the empty space, a little worried. He’d noticed the people in the alleys- MACUSA- always watching, alert. He thinks that something is wrong.

“You’ve noticed,” Bellbow says, suddenly emerging from a bookstore, leaning down to speak quietly in his ear.

“We should get the others,” Robert says, the sense of dread solidifying.

“We-,” Bellbow starts, but then someone steps into the street, dark robes swirling.

Robert _knows_ , somehow, immediately, what is about to happen. He turns, frantic, thinking only _Graves is in there, my friends are in there,_ and then Bellbow’s strong arm is suddenly pulling him close, protective. Robert barely catches the fierce determination in the boy’s eyes before he opens his mouth, spell ready at the tip of his tongue. The words, lost somehow in the moment, float in the air as the man sees him. His eyes are sharp. Knowing.

And then everything explodes.

* * *

When Graves blinks, ears ringing, he sees Bertrand’s wand raised, shielding them.

The shop’s windows are blown out, glass and dust carpeting the floor. The wooden doorway is warped, a little splintered from the impact. There are coughing people everywhere.

“What-,” he starts, dazed, and then he blinks away the dust, seeing the damage. “Oh,” he breathes, taking in the splintered wood and glass and destroyed stalls littering the ground.

And the people.

“Come on,” he says quickly, pulling Bertrand out, and they stumble onto the pavement like explorers on the face of a new planet.

He can see MACUSA agents helping people up. Evaluating the damage. He turns in place, a little overwhelmed, but determined.

“We need to find the others,” Bertrand says suddenly, focused again. “Come on.”

They watch people gathering themselves in the rubble, some unknown buzz of magic still echoing in the streets. _What happened?_

“Bert!” someone yells, and Graves is shocked to see Ianto emerging from the canopy of the Italian restaurant.

He seems fine- covered in dust and coughing, but fine. Andie follows close behind him, and he notices a streak of blood on her arm.

“Are you all right?” he asks, anxious.

“Just a scratch,” she explains, looking past him. “Bert…Percy…where’s Avery? Robert?”

“They’re not here?” Bert asks, worry suddenly bleeding into his tone.

“No- did you tell them-,”

“I told Avery,” Bert says, panic making him antsy, and he turns in place as if he’ll see them in the immediate vicinity. “I was looking for Robert-,”

“Where did you see him last?” Graves demands, thinking.

_He can’t have gone far._

“…the bookstore,” Bert says, turning suddenly. “by Lionel’s.”

* * *

Robert’s ear is ringing.

Just one, because whatever happened hit his side, sudden and forceful. He squints, coughing dust away, and then he notices where they are.

There’s a bookshelf on top of him.

“A-Avery,” he manages, coughing dust from his lungs. “ _Avery_.”

There’s a small groan and Robert thinks _thank God_ , taking stock of their situation. He can feel something digging into his side and his legs hurt; Avery is lying close to him and the bookshelf is pressing, heavy.

_It’s a good thing I dissolved that glass window,_ he thinks, _or we’d be pincushions right now._

“You’re- fine?” Avery asks, coughing, wincing as he moves.

“I’m all right,” Robert lies, ignoring the pain in his side. “can you move?”

“…possibly,” Avery growls, slowly getting to his feet. “The bookcase-,”

“Hold on. Let me see…I might be able to reach my wand.”

There’s a wooden creak behind them and Robert blinks, dread filling his stomach again. _Please tell me that’s not a bookcase. Please don’t be a bookcase._

“Robert…are you in the mood for some light reading?” Avery asks, tensing.

“Don’t- Avery _don’t,_ you’re hurt, it might-,”

“I’m _not_ letting this fall on you,” Avery growls, staggering around him, and Robert feels a seed of desperation.

And then he hears them.

* * *

“Rob? Rob!”

Bertrand sprints towards the shop and Graves follows close behind, anxious. He can see the mess of bookcases in the store.

“Thank god,” Robert manages, sighing.

“Avery- your leg,” Graves starts, and Andie pushes past him.

He can hear her murmur a spell as he watches Bertrand move around the fallen bookcase.

“How do you feel?” Bertrand asks.

“Dandy,” Robert says, mock-cheerily. “and I would appreciate it if _none_ of you attempt to spell the problem away, if you’re in any way incapacitated. I like my body intact. The way it is.”

“He’s fine. He’s being sassy,” Ianto says drily, but he’s already walking around the rubble, looking for a solution.

“The other bookcase,” Avery says, interrupting, “it’s going to fall. We need to get him out.”

“Don’t move,” Bertrand says sharply, walking to the front of the shelf. “we’ll-,”

“ _Stop_ ,” Robert insists through grit teeth. “Listen to me. Take care of the other bookcase. Don’t move this one.”

Bertrand pauses, indecision flashing across his face.

_It doesn’t make sense,_ Graves thinks. So he asks.

“Why?”

Robert stares at the ground in front of his nose, silent. Andie glances uneasily at Ianto.

“Rob? Where?”

Graves can tell, even from the short question, that she knows. Her voice is unsteady and she knows something, and he doesn’t know what but he knows it’s bad.

“…my side. Under the ribs.”

Andie inhales sharply, rocking back a little, but her expression is determined.

“What? What is it?” Bertrand demands, fingers moving restlessly in the need to do something.

_Oh,_ Graves thinks, the threads spinning together into a cohesive knot.

“You’re hurt,” he says, kneeling.

Robert looks at him, a little sorry, and nods.

“Something’s in my side. I don’t know what. If you move the bookcase on me, I might start to bleed out. I don’t know. Just…be careful.”

Avery moves around the bookcase, bending so that he is closer to Robert.

“We will not fail you,” he promises, the words as solid as he is, and his eyes are serious.

“I know.”

Avery waits, hands braced against the splintered top shelf, ready to push.

“Ready?” Graves asks, calm, and his heart nearly breaks when Robert reaches out to hold his hand.

“Ready,” he says, squeezing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the hiatus, everyone! I've been getting back into the swing of classes this week and I have work at 8 am almost every day. Thankfully I'm almost fully on schedule now so I'll have time to update over the weekends. Anyhow, I hope you enjoy this latest chapter- it came out longer than I expected! I'm loving spending time with this team as kids and I hope you look forward to their future adventures!


	5. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Year Four brings struggles to some of the group's friendships. With adversity, however, comes a renewed dedication and strength. The beginnings of a powerful alliance are being forged.

“Val, you’ve grown. You’re taller,” Robert says, smiling.

“I’m as tall as you. We _both_ grew,” he corrects, feeling decidedly more excited than before.

“You’re still both smaller than me,” Avery beams.

_It was a good idea to meet here,_ he thinks. Another inn, another wizarding district. He remembers what it was like a year ago. The attack.

Robert had been gone for the first week of school. He’d never quite explained it fully. _Mending,_ he’d said simply when the question had come up.

Their third year had passed rather uneventfully after that. Aside from the rumblings, here and there, hints that something was brewing. Something dangerous.

“You grew,” Andie announces as she appears, dark hair braided messily down her back.

“Oh,” Graves says, blinking. “You- look nice.”

She looks confused for a second, then blushing, and Robert snickers into his hand.

“Yes, well done, Val. Andie, dear, that is a _lovely_ red on you.”

“Thanks,” she smiles, relaxing, and Graves exhales quietly.

_Thank God for Robert._

He watches Ianto appear behind Andie, freezing, and he raises an eyebrow when the boy flushes brightly, blinking a little too hard.

_Well, at least I didn’t do what he did,_ he thinks, amused.

“Hey,” Ianto says, a little unsteady, and Robert laughs brightly.

“Andie, I think you’ve found your power color,” he manages, wiping at his eyes.

“Honestly,” she groans in response, shaking her head, but her eyes are merry.

_It’s good to be back,_ Graves thinks. _Home._

He’s learned, over the past year. _Home is where they are,_ he thinks. _My love. My friends. My home._

“I’m late to the party, as usual,” Bertrand says, slipping beside Avery.

“I’d wait for you,” Robert winks, and Ianto’s drink escapes through his nose as he laughs, coughing.

“Well, now that we’re all here,” Graves interrupts, fighting laughter, “why don’t we go? I do believe it’s time to return to school.”

“You know, Val, I think you’re right,” Robert smiles.

* * *

Robert arrives at the table, arms laden with books, and the resounding _thud_ they make when they hit the table makes Ianto cringe.

“…why?” the boy asks, sounding half miserable and half impressed, and Graves smiles.

“Bert’s a sixth-year,” Robert says, matter-of-fact.

“…and?”

“… _and_ that means he’s learning nonverbal spells.”

“You’re helping him?” Graves asks, interested.

_An advantage,_ he thinks. _Small, but important. Without a word, it’s easier to catch your enemy off guard._

“I am,” Robert grins, “but I’m also interested. I mean, think about it- the connection between words and magic! Native American and even African witches and wizards largely disregarded the use of wand until European intervention-,”

“Rob,” Ianto interrupts, “I don’t care. Now, bring me something related to jinxes, and _then_ I’ll listen.”

Graves shakes his head, smiling, and turns back to his defensive charms text. _We all have our fortes,_ he thinks. _It’s why we make a great team._

* * *

“…a party?”

The whispers circulate, murmurs and giggles and hushed conversation. Graves glances at Robert, who looks inordinately pleased.

“It is a chance for students to gain introductions. Many members of Congress will be present, as well as experts from fields such as Herbology and Medicine,” Professor Hale explains, hazel eyes surveying the classroom.

“What a chance,” Robert grins. “imagine, Val. Rubbing elbows and kissing-,”

“Sixth and seventh-year Students within the requisite grade range will be invited to attend,” the professor smiles, speaking a little louder, “and they will be offered extra invites for a guest.”

_Invites for a guest,_ Graves muses. _There will be strict competition for those…_

As it turns out, he’s right.

The invitations arrive mysteriously, tucked on top of pillowcases.

“Did you hear- a first-year tried to steal one off a sixth-year’s bed, and it turned his skin into a checkerboard of red and white!”

Robert’s amused laughter floats around the room and Graves shakes his head, smiling. _What a chance,_ he thinks. _We only have to wait two years._

When they meet Andie and Ianto outside, the two are arguing.

“-only for the purpose of the _party_ ,” Andie says insistently, shaking her head.

“She’s _foul_ ,” Ianto hisses, ducking behind a tree, glancing around the courtyard.

“Who’s foul?” Graves asks, amused.

“Alyssa Baker,” Andie sighs. “She _has_ an invitation, and she _has_ an affinity for our Ianto.”

“Lucky,” Robert laughs. “There’s your in! You’ll have a bang-up time, no doubt. All the kowtowing and pleasantries. It’ll be like training for you!”

“I want to be an _ambassador_ , not a _slave_ ,” Ianto complains, “who knows what she’ll have me do for the invite?”

“She’ll do _nothing_ ,” Andie insists, “because she enjoys your flustering ways too much.”

“Look- Bertrand,” Ianto says suddenly, relief crossing his features. “did he get one?”

The boy in question is making his way over, inky hair swinging in the sunlight. Robert watches him, quiet.

“ _Ianto_ ,” Andie hisses. “If he did, he won’t give it to _you_ \- you know he’ll want to take-,”

“Robert,” Bertrand says, glancing at the boy as he enters the circle. “are you aware your jacket’s torn?”

Robert stares for a moment and Graves can almost read the _kill me now_ expression on his face. His glance at Graves seems to say, _on second thought, kill him_. Graves sympathizes, but it’s amusing to watch.

“So did you get a letter?” Graves asks.

“I did,” Bertrand says. “and you know, I think someone may have tried to take it.”

Andie chokes a little, suppressing a laugh.

“Did they, now?”

* * *

It is two days until the party and the entire castle is abuzz.

“Honestly, I’m glad I won’t have to go. It’ll be nice and quiet at dinner, I think,” Graves tells Robert. “I don’t know how you’ll put up with it.”

“With what?” Robert asks, glancing up from his book.

Graves unfortunately doesn’t notice Avery staring hard at him from an armchair.

“…the party, of course. You _are_ going?”

“Why on earth would I be going, dear?”

The question is amused but there’s a tightness to it.

“Didn’t-,”

“He’s only being ridiculous,” Avery huffs, interrupting. “we all know Bertrand is…,”

“He hasn’t invited you?” Graves asks, aghast.

The book slaps shut and Robert rises, determined. His brown eyes are fierce. _Like his mother,_ Graves thinks. _They both have the same power about them._

“Well. I think it’s unfair to wait so long. If he’s having me on, I would like to know _now_. Excuse me.”

Graves watches him go, blinking. _Is it really going to go well?_ He isn’t sure, for once, what will happen. _Robert’s always been able to talk sense into him. But lately…_

Since last summer, really, Bertrand has been a bit more difficult.

* * *

It is the night before the party and Robert is _furious_.

“He can’t even show himself!”

“I know,” Graves says, trying to keep his voice calm.

_What is it? Sound calm, and an angry person will calm down._

Whoever came up with the stupid idea clearly hadn’t met Robert.

“ _Honestly_ , Val, am I being unfair? I was under the impression that we were _friends_ , and rather good ones! All I ask is that he be clear! If he were extending the invitation to someone else, I wouldn’t be hurt. I’m not _petty_. But if there is no one else, why _waste_ it?”

“It _is_ a waste,” Graves agrees, sighing, and he can’t help but feel frustrated.

_He has no reason to do this,_ he thinks. _Robert hasn’t done anything wrong, to my knowledge. So why is Bertrand being so obtuse?_

“I only want to _talk_ to him,” Robert says, voice a little broken as he sinks into a couch. “That’s all.”

Graves feels a little flare of anger in his chest. _Whatever his reasons, it’s unfair of Bertrand to do this to a friend. Especially Robert._

Avery enters then, breathless and fierce.

“He’s at the astronomy tower.”

* * *

“I would like to talk to you,” Robert says, quiet.

It hurts him someplace strange when Bertrand starts a little, hands clenching and unclenching. He doesn’t quite want to think about what it means.

“Why?”

“You know why. Don’t tell me you don’t.”

It’s cold in the tower at night. He tries not to shiver, wanting to seem resolute. He doesn’t want to seem angry; only determined. Determined to get an answer and clear the air.

“Rob…”

“All I want to know is why. Did you want to ask someone else?”

He watches, waiting. _The easiest way to tell is his eyes. They don’t lie._

“No,” Bertrand says, a little hollow, and Robert knows he isn’t lying.

“Why, then? Have I done something wrong?”

“No, Rob, you- you haven’t done anything. It isn’t you.”

“So it’s you, then?” he asks, frustrated. “That’s a terrible excuse. It’s not you. You _do_ want me to go, don’t you?”

He says it, even though it’s bold, because he knows it’s true.

When Bertrand stares, at a loss, his eyes say that it is.

“Tell me. Tell me you want me to go,” Robert says, quieter, stepping close. “Tell me what you want.”

“I c-,”

The door swings open then, creaking.

“Bert? Why the secrecy-,” Ianto starts, glancing around the room, and then he stops. “Oh. Hey, Rob.”

It is just another needle in his pincushion heart.

He wonders, with amusement and pain and something else a little deeper, why he continues to do this to himself. _Why do I do it to myself?_

He knows why.

“Ian! Have fun. Not too much, though,” he says cheekily, the voice coming naturally, like they all do.

_Do the voice,_ he hears Clara say, bright and giggling. _Come on. The angry one! Or- the silly one!_

_You should have been an actor._

He leaves, eyes burning, and he’s glad his waves are just long enough to swing over his eyes and hide the tears.

* * *

He sees Robert walking through the cold hallway and he stops, hand reaching for the banister, about to go to the dormitory.

“Oh, look,” he says, blinking, and Avery turns. “Robert.”

He feels it, before he sees it. The misery emanating from the swift figure.

Avery glances at him, serious, and starts back down the stairs.

“Go on. I’ll talk to him.”

* * *

He makes it out to the edge of the trees where he paces, thinking. _Do I walk? How do I take my mind off this? Should I just go back to the dorm?_

There’s a heavy hand on his shoulder and he tenses, deciding between acting and his wand, and then he hears the voice.

“Robert.”

_Avery,_ he thinks, and even the older boy’s voice is comforting enough for him to give in, turning, unable to keep up the charade any longer. His vision is blurry when the tears pour forth.

“He-,” voice stumbling, stopping, and he is embarrassed by the obvious pain in it.

He hates how vulnerable he sounds.

“He has made a mistake,” Avery murmurs, and then his arms pull Robert in.

It’s a pleasant warmth, he thinks distantly, to be embraced. It feels safe. So he relaxes, ignoring the way he’s sobbing all over Avery’s jacket, relishing the feeling of letting go.

They are there when it happens.

* * *

Graves walks down the staircase the next morning, looking for his friends.

“Have you seen Robert?”

“No,” Andie says, brow furrowed. “Why?”

“I have reason to believe Bertrand was a damn ass last night.”

Ianto slides into a seat then and before he stops he freezes, pale.

“What?”

“…what do you know?”

“…I didn’t…I mean, _he_ asked…,”

“He asked _you_ ,” Andie realizes, anguished. “Oh, Robert…”

“Oh, no,” Ianto starts, dismayed. “I didn’t- I didn’t mean- I would have-,”

“We know,” Graves sighs. “Rob went to talk to him about it. I guess he was too late.”

“He wasn’t,” Ianto says, looking more and more distressed by the moment. “He was there when I met Bertrand.”

“What happened?”

“They had talked, I think. It…I thought it seemed odd, but Rob left before I could talk to him.”

“He _turned him down,_ ” Andie realizes, the words practically fire as she spits them out. “That _absolute_ -,”

“This doesn’t make sense,” Graves interrupts, shaking his head. “Rob went to ask. That’s usually all it takes, isn’t it? Why would he still-,”

“I don’t know,” Andie hisses, slamming her cup on the table. “Who knows? Maybe he felt guilty but he did nothing because he’d already spoken to Ianto. Maybe he just didn’t want to be seen with Robert. Maybe he’s just an _absolute cad_.”

“Well, absolute cad or not, we won’t really know until after the break. Everyone’s leaving,” Graves sighs. “And I doubt we’ll see either of them before then.”

* * *

Robert wakes up to see Avery’s face, peaceful in sleep, a few inches away.

_What?_

There is stone beneath his body, cold and hard. He is sore along his side from where he’s been laying. It is cold.

_Where am I?_

It is cold and damp and he feels an edge of panic. Still, he tries to think things through.

“Avery,” he tries, taking stock of himself. “ _Avery._ ”

There are iron shackles on his wrists and ankles.

He tries to move, desperate to reach Avery, but he’s just a little too far away.

“-mmn,” Avery grunts, turning, and his brow wrinkles as he starts to wake, shifting.

_Oh, thank God._

“Good. Yes. Wake up. Come on. Avery, wake _up_.”

The older boy jerks a little, blinking, turning to push himself up.

“Robert?”

“Good. Good- are you all right? Hurt?”

“No. You’re fine?”

“I think so. I don’t know where we are.”

“What happened?”

He chews his lip, thinking. _What happened last?_

“I- I don’t know. We were outside, and then- I don’t know.”

The door opens then, wooden and heavy and hinged with iron, and his heart drops into his stomach.

“Witches,” the man says, and his smile _feels_ dirty. “Isn’t this nice?”

“Who are you?” Robert asks, trying his best to sound scared. His mind is running in a thousand different directions. “What do you want? We’re kids-,”

“Quiet, witch,” the man spits, and then he draws back, thin control lying over his face. “I know what you are. The question is, can we change that?”

The dread returns, heavy, and Robert can only think _please, please let us get help_.

* * *

There is a resounding _slap_ in the hallway.

A few students stare but Graves gives them a hard glare, watching them move around the commotion. Andie, near tears, glares at Bertrand.

“I can’t believe you,” she whispers. “Make it right.”

It is the only thing she says before she turns on her heel, swift, following the crowd out the front doors.

“You shouldn’t have asked me,” Ianto says quietly. “and I would have understood. I still do.”

Bertrand works his jaw a little, touching the spot on his cheek.

“I know,” he says.

Ianto simply nods, backing away before he follows Andie out.

Graves waits.

“You have something to say, too,” Bertrand says, and it isn’t even a question.

“I think _you_ have something to say.”

“…I’m not brave. You know that.”

“There are different kinds of brave, Bert. You don’t have to be the stupid kind.”

Bertrand nods, and Graves thinks the redness in his eyes was there before Andie slapped him. He also thinks, despite his desire to remain angry- after all, it was _Robert_ \- that there may still be a chance.

Maybe.

After all, it _is_ Robert.

“He hasn’t been around.”

“No. Avery spoke to him,” Graves volunteers. “They’re probably helping each other. You’ll see him, after the break.”

“After,” Bertrand echoes, a little sad and a little resigned.

_Maybe someday it’ll be ‘before’_.

* * *

“Don’t touch him!” Robert screams, and his throat is sore.

His skin is on fire. He thinks he has a fever; he isn’t sure. It would make sense, with the damp room they’re in.

The dunking in water.

It gets in his nose, chokes him. He thinks, with fury at his captor, that he may not be able to swim the way he loved to before. Not for a while.

Avery, to his credit, endures his torture with less fighting. Instead, Robert thinks he times his breath, tries to make sense of the senseless violence. It’s probably the right thing to do, but Robert is sick and frantic inside and all he wants is for them to get _out_.

He sobs a little, pulling at the heavy chains, growling, and the man throws a gasping Avery to the ground.

The man sneers.

“We’ll have the devil out of you yet.”

* * *

Avery watches Robert, curled on the ground, and he wishes he could break his chains. If only to move a little closer. Warm the smaller body.

He knows Robert is sick.

_A fever,_ he thinks, trying to calculate how many days it’s been. He knows the break has already started; suspects no one knows they’re missing. Robert’s parents wouldn’t discount the whimsy of their son. And he…

…well.

“Robert,” he murmurs, testing.

“…yes, dear,” the boy manages, voice hoarse.

_He’s been yelling. For me._

“You’re sick. You need rest. When they return-,”

“ _No_ ,” Robert insists, trying to blink his eyes open further, and Avery regrets trying to tell him.

“I’m not asking,” he says firmly, sharp. “You won’t last like this.”

The room is silent. _Four days,_ Avery decides. _Nine left until students return. Ten until they take note of our absence._

A lot can happen in ten days.

“…I’m not letting you save me,” Robert says, firm. “One of us has to live. Get help. Escape.”

He doesn’t say _it won’t be me_.

He doesn’t say it, but Avery knows it’s what he means.

* * *

Robert can tell Avery is barely conscious.

They’ve been drowning them again. _Almost drowning. Close enough._

“Please. Let him go. It’s not him,” he tries, clear-headed enough to try.

“What was that?”

Teasing. Sneering.

“…it’s me. I bewitched him. I’ll let him go. Turn him out. Save his soul,” he cackles, feverish.

_Come on,_ he thinks. _This is what you want, isn’t it? An adversary. Evil to fight._

_I can be that evil._

There is a kick to his head. It doesn’t hurt much, with the fever. He laughs, triumphant because he knows he has the man’s attention.

“Let the boy go, _demon_ ,” the man cries, voice bellowing in the room, and Robert laughs even harder.

Avery lies on the floor and then the door opens, other figures appearing to drag his body out. Robert feels a small sting of desperation. _Please let him be safe,_ he thinks. _Please let him be found._

He prays, fervent, and then submits himself to his captor. To the inevitable.

_I must be their demon._

* * *

It’s the eleventh day when they get the news.

Graves is holding a teacup. It falls from his numb hand, shattering on his bedroom floor. He stares at the wet page of the paper, the moving words and sympathetic figure in the picture. It is tucked away in a small corner, almost hidden.

**Boy Found Close to Death** , the headline reads. **Fanatic No-Maj Suspected.**

* * *

Graves almost runs down the hall, heart beating rapidly and painfully in his chest.

“Avery,” he breathes, standing in the doorway, dismay chilling his blood.

The boy is in bed, bandaged beyond belief, a little too pale and too quiet.

“Percy. I’m sorry,” he starts, quiet and solemn, a little rage burning beneath the surface.

“No- I…we didn’t know. We should have known. We should have-,”

“No. It’s not our fault,” Ianto interrupts from the doorway, Andie by his side.

And then Bertrand walks in.

“We’re going to find him,” he says, deadly. “We’re bringing him home.”

* * *

He was bullied once, before.

He doesn’t remember his childhood. He remembers, somewhat, his life after the age of eight. He can remember a house by the forest. The quiet of the trees.

When they’d moved closer to town, his mother had arranged for him to attend a preparatory group. A kind of training school for young witches and wizards. A day in, he’d smiled at a boy and told him, _you’re nice, I like you,_ and not a minute later he’d been told _go away._

_Weirdo._

_Tree boy._

Other names, not as simple. Cruel.

He had learned how to take a punch. A kick. Another kick. He had learned how to hide his bruises, the physical and emotional, from his parents. He didn’t take what was said to heart. He knew it was all talk.

Or at least that’s what he told himself.

Now, in the dampness of his stone prison, he isn’t so sure anymore.

A kick.

_Three days until someone knows._

“Witch,” the man says, disgusted. “what have you done? Who have you enthralled? Twisted, with your forked tongue?”

Robert curls into himself, trying to focus on a chipped stone in the floor. He wishes, not for the first time, that he were a sixth-year, capable of nonverbal magic.

That he was older, capable of wandless magic.

“Look at him,” another man laughs, and a sharp kick turns him over.

He blinks up at the ceiling, eyes burning at the light there. He wonders if Avery is all right. If anyone knows that he’s missing. Where he might be.

His magic feels wrong.

_Wands allow us to channel magic,_ he recites in his head. _Some creatures, such as goblins, are able to perform magic without wands. Some believe that this is proof of a deeper connection to magic- something that indicates a clearer understanding-_

A kick lands on his head, and the last thing he thinks is _good._

_I can’t remember what’s next._

* * *

“What are we going to do?” Ianto asks. “We might be able to get onto the school grounds, but there’s no way we’ll go unnoticed.”

“We weren’t far,” Avery says. “From the school. Think about it- if this is a no-maj, they can only do so much. Go so far. They had to have been close, to take us. They probably watched, from a distance.”

“The grounds are protected,” Andie argues, shaking her head. “there’s no way it’s a no-maj. Only someone with a wand could get in.”

_A wand,_ Graves thinks. _Or the power._

“What…if…it’s someone with magical blood? Ancestry?”

He can see the realization in their faces.

“If they have ancestry…the wards might not recognize them as a threat,” Andie says slowly.

“They’d probably be sensitive to magic, too,” Graves says. “In some way, maybe.”

“How does this help?” Avery asks, voice tight. “We need to find him _soon._ He was-,”

“We’ll look in the immediate area,” Graves decides, rising quickly. “You said you thought you were in a basement, or underground. Andie, look for buildings. Ianto, take Bert and find magical families in the area- ones with ancestry that have faded.”

“We’ll find him,” Andie says, throwing her book bag over her shoulder. “We’ll bring him back.”

_We will,_ Graves thinks. _Home._

* * *

_Two days._

He can feel something moving inside.

Magic feels, he has always thought, like a hum. A static buzz. The feeling you get when you step out of a hot bath. It _sings._

Without his wand, with only the desire to be _free_ , it shifts.

He doesn’t know it. He is too sick, fevered, beaten, to realize anything. All he knows is the pain and the desire. The want.

_Free_ , he thinks, and the magic sings back, echoing the word with a flicker like flame. _Free._

* * *

“The plan,” Graves says, removing his wand from his jacket. “Your roles?”

“Offensive,” Ianto says. “I’m the best at jinxing. Curses.”

“Rear guard,” Andie says. “Protection, with focus on healing when needed.”

“Containment,” Bertrand says. “When they’re down, I’ll keep them there.”

“Vanguard,” Graves finishes. “I’ll shield and parry. My defenses can take the biggest hits.”

They are standing in the forest, wands ready, facing a mansion on the edge of a lake.

_Abandoned,_ Andie had said. _Or so they think. It belonged to an old wizarding family. Obscure, but large. I couldn’t find much._

_So why them?_ Graves had asked. _Why people you couldn’t find anything about?_

_Whoever did this was able to slip by the defenses. The school. I don’t think a well-known family’s ancestors could do that. Titles are important, Percy. People hold on to them. This person didn’t._

She is, as usual, right.

The ancient building reminds him of a nightmare version of his own. It is stone and statues, so similar- but there is something evil in the creeping ivy and blackened leaves. The unkempt grounds, weeds clawing at their feet.

It makes him want to shiver.

He reaches for the door, pausing, thinking for a moment _maybe we should have told someone. Left it to them._

But he thinks of Robert, alone and sick, and he can’t wait.

His hand curls around the rusted handle, prying, and the door creaks open like the maw of an ancient beast.

For a minute, there is nothing but darkness.

And then a blue swirl hurtles towards them.

His hand moves almost on its own, wand swiping, instinctive.

“ _Protego!_ ”

* * *

He is aware.

It might be day or night. He doesn’t know.

All he knows is the iron burns on his back, twinging and angry. His clammy skin. The heat and cold, fighting, twisting in him.

There is nothing left.

He can remember faces. Only a little. Voices. Names dissolved into letters, trying to reassemble themselves.

_I’m not your messenger bird._ Laughter. _Only this once._ Blue-black feathers. Soft. _It’s a violin. Would you like to hear? It’s my secret._ Dark hair. It smells like strawberries. _It’s Welsh. That’s where my family is from- Wales._ Grey eyes. Ghostly.

_What is a home?_

The word aches.

It echoes in his chest, painful, and he wants to hold onto it. He tries desperately to grasp at the memories, bits and pieces, smiles and words. His eyes are burning and he tries to keep them open, noises echoing in his head, rattling the burned space.

_Home is happiness,_ he thinks, trying, and his mouth works in an attempt to get the words out.

“-me…a…n…,” he slurs, tongue too heavy, and the door slams open.

A man, frenzied, face bloody, eyes wild.

* * *

Ianto’s jinx hits a man squarely in the chest, propelling him backwards across the length of the room. Graves hears Andie scream, the words all fury, and he thinks _if only Hale could hear her now_ , _he’d never tell her to speak up in Defense_ , and a door flies off its hinges to pin someone to the wall.

They’ve taken down five men already. Bertrand makes short work of the disabled enemies, charms twisting like snakes around them. Graves is a little tired, adrenaline starting to wear down, but he is focused. _The practice helped,_ he thinks wryly. _I’ll have to thank Rob for the gloves._

He is just about to say _let’s go_ when a door opens on the far end of the room, someone stepping out, and then his vision narrows to the two people in the doorway.

_Robert,_ he thinks, mouth open to say something, but his mind short-circuits when he sees his friend’s body.

He is pale. _He shouldn’t be pale,_ Graves thinks, appalled. _Where is the sun? Where is the warmth?_

_They sucked the gold out of him._

Andie makes a small noise, part sob and part growl, and Ianto’s wand creaks in his hand. Bertrand, he sees out of the corner of his eye, is shaking minutely.

“Let him go,” Graves says, steady. “Now.”

“Put them down,” the man says, breathing heavily, a shiver running up his body. “Or I kill him.”

Graves waits, watching, and he lowers his hand. His mind is racing.

_What do we do? How can we change this? Turn it to our advantage?_

“Per-,” Ianto starts, quiet, but he shakes his head.

“Do what he says,” he commands, trying to keep his voice even. “it’s fine. We’re all fine.”

_I’ll wait until he’s close,_ he thinks, _and then I’ll strike. If he attacks me when I reach for my wand, the others will restrain him. They’ll have time._

* * *

He can hear the voices again.

They seem more…real.

“….it’s fine….,” one says, floating in and out, and Robert wants to reach out to it.

He tries to channel his energy. Tries to come back.

He can only see a little, vision blurry.

_My friends,_ he thinks, the shoes before his eyes dusty and scuffed. _They’ve been fighting. For me._

The man yanks his chin up, painful, and he is thrown against a pillar. He sits there, dizzy, and there are angry voices in the distance.

“… _watch_ ,” he hears the man say, floating in and out, somehow sharpening a little.

He feels the desperation return, stronger, a wave of pain and fury and fear.

Not for himself.

For them.

_He’ll hurt them,_ he thinks, and he watches the man advance. He tries to shake his head.

“… _no_ …,” he whimpers, and his magic flickers.

It sparks.

_No._

* * *

Graves want to scream when he hears Robert’s voice.

It is painful to hear. Scratched. Raw.

“Your tools betray you,” the man says, laughing, and he staggers forward. “Fickle devils.”

His arm flies up and Graves thinks _I knew it_ , prepared for whatever will come. He feels the others shift, reaching for their wands, but he knows it will be too late. He inhales slowly, feet planted evenly. Bracing.

“ ** _No._** ”

Robert’s voice echoes in the room and the man stops, a very real _fear_ clouding his eyes.

Graves feels his breath catch in his chest. The others pause, staring, and Robert watches the man, gaze locked.

He stares, and his pupils are large- too large, Graves thinks, and then the man makes a terrible noise, slowly crumbling like a building whose foundation has been cracked. He sinks to his knees, choking, veins throbbing in protest, and Graves can almost see the blood moving through his arteries. Slowing.

He can’t help but watch as the man collapses, blood pooling by his mouth, dark, a small stain of violence.

He hears Robert fall, and then he turns, running, unthinking, wand hastily snatched from the floor.

“Robert? Robert. _Robert_ ,” he tries, panic and confusion making everything strange.

His friend is pale and there is blood smeared beneath his nose, violent scarlet, metallic.

“Let me see,” Andie manages, voice heavy with tears, and she reaches for the boy.

“Wrists,” Ianto says mechanically, eyes clouded with shock. “Leg.”

“ _Episky,_ ” Andie says, steadying, blinking past the tears.

The mends are instant, shimmering. It works, but Robert doesn’t wake up.

“What’s wrong with him?” Graves asks, lost. “Why won’t he wake up?”

Andie makes a distressed noise, trying to find words, and Bertrand holds Robert in his lap, gaze empty.

_Wake up,_ Graves wills, hoping. _We’re here. You’re home. Wake up._

* * *

They tell MACUSA what they know.

They are berated, of course, but they are also treated…differently. Graves watches the adults move around them, a little wary, and he wants to scream at them. Fight. Lash out.

_It’s him you need to watch,_ he wants to say. _Help him._

Robert’s parents arrive immediately after he is admitted. They are worried sick and distraught but they are quick to protect the teens, stout as they turn the MACUSA agents away.

“They’re _children_ ,” he hears Lena hiss at a man in the hallway. “Leave them _be_ and let my son _heal_.”

He hears the fire in her voice and he hopes beyond hope that the same fire will come back to Robert.

_They can’t have put it out,_ he thinks. _It would never leave him. Never._

* * *

Avery walks in, still bandaged but mobile and stronger.

“You found him,” he says, proud but a little broken when he sees his friend.

“We did,” Andie says, reaching for his hand.

She holds it even when Avery comes close, resting his forehead against the smaller boy’s.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he repeats, over and over, and they let him.

None of the other spells and charms have worked.

_Maybe this one will._

* * *

There are voices in the hall, arguing.

“…his parents,” Ianto says, tired, reading Graves’ face.

_Parents?_

He can hear Bertrand start to say something, and then a man interrupts. They are barely audible but Graves catches a few words. _Not your problem. School. Friend._

The voices stop, abrupt, and there’s a slam.

The others wait, watching, and then the door opens.

“They don’t want you to stay, do they?” Andie asks.

“They want me to leave,” Bertrand says, short, but his mind isn’t on the argument.

He is watching Robert’s face, waiting, and Graves is starting to see what he was blind to before.

“Why?” Ianto asks.

“They don’t think I have a reason to be here.”

“You can go,” Avery offers, quiet, and Graves tenses. “we’re here.”

It isn’t a challenge. It’s neither rude nor cruel.

But it’s a choice.

_All I ask is that he be clear,_ he hears Robert say, passionate and determined.

“They want me to go home,” Bertrand starts, pausing.

“Home is happiness,” Robert says, voice cracked and raspy, falling in and out, and Graves _feels_ his return like a candle being lit, the warmth small at first when it flickers to life.

It’s a warmth that grows and then Andie laughs, crying, and Ianto lets out a breath. Avery grins, for the first time since he’d arrived in the hospital, and Graves turns to Bertrand, waiting. He watches the boy move closer, eyes fixed on his friend.

“And I am happy here,” he says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This spiraled out of control. I really just wanted a simple explanation for how Robert might have started learning his 'voice magic', but let's be honest, any story about that wasn't going to be simple. I know it's very heavy on OCs at the moment, but I really do plan to bring Graves into the center of things again, more importantly with how he ties the group together and how his style is going to change from a complete protector to a dangerous man. Also, I hope you enjoyed the reference to Graves' unique wandwork- I'll be exploring that next, too!


	6. Train(ing)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for some normality, so the team decides to sign up for a class trip. Unfortunately for them, nothing is normal when they're the ones doing it.

There are things stirring. Whispers. They have always been there, but they have gotten louder.

Graves watches carefully, as he always has, aware of the shadow looming.

Dark magic.

_I think we should meet,_ Robert’s letter had said. _At least to talk. Before school starts._

Bertrand is graduating. Graves knows this- he knows without Bertrand, Robert might be different. If nothing changes. He’d suspected, or started to realize, after Bertrand had apologized to Robert. After the rescue.

Whatever happens, he knows they will survive it. Maybe he and the other fifth-years haven’t known life without Bertrand- or Bellbow, for that matter- but they’re strong. They can make it.

He tells himself these things because he is afraid. Now, more than ever.

* * *

“I think we all know something is coming,” Ianto says.

He runs a finger down the side of his glass, condensation pooling on his pale fingers.

“I’ve heard,” Graves starts, trying to think of how best to explain. “there are…attacks. Small. Nothing worrying yet, except the worry that they’ll escalate. They’re isolated for now. Sparse.”

“They’re in places no one thinks to look. They go unnoticed at first,” Andie says, staring hard at her milkshake.

The table is silent. It feels less innocent now, the corner of the shop where they eat lunch. The buildings line the street like jagged teeth, mismatched. Everything seems a little more somber. He wonders if it’s the world that’s changed, or them.

“All right, enough,” Robert exhales, pulling his bag out from under the table. “This is depressing. Why don’t we talk about something else? What are everyone’s plans for graduation?”

“…I thought you _didn’t_ want to talk about depressing things,” Ianto says, raising an eyebrow.

He’s rewarded with a balled-up straw wrapper to the face.

“I’d still like to work in law enforcement,” Avery says, chewing on his straw like a giant dog.

“I’m attempting to create a resume for the Department of International Magical Cooperation,” Ianto says, throwing the straw wrapper back. “I think it would be fun to travel.”

“I have no clue,” Andie says. “although I’ve been told I should teach.”

“You should teach,” the rest of the table echoes, and she laughs.

“Well, I could be an Auror,” Robert muses.

“You could,” Graves smiles. “I’ll probably join Avery.”

There’s a pause. They wait, expectant.

“I…,” Bertrand starts, blinking, and then he fiddles with his napkin. “I may work for MACUSA.”

“Well, that’s vague,” Ianto snorts.

“But it’s a plan,” Robert assures, smiling. “and that’s the best place to start.”

_Is it?_ Graves wonders. _All this planning, and where does it ever get us?_

* * *

They’re taking a trip.

“All years are welcome, but we’ll be restricting it to students with high grades and a specific interest in either MACUSA or other forms of public service,” Hale says, arms folded.

A piece of chalk scratches its way across a board. Wandless magic. Powerful stuff- and Graves is good at it.

Not that he’ll tell anyone other than his friends, of course.

“We’ll be visiting a satellite office for MACUSA. It’s an overnight trip- we’ll leave Monday, tour Tuesday, and return Wednesday. If you are accepted, your professors will be notified and they will make arrangements for classwork- which you _will_ complete,” he stresses, smirking when a few students groan.

It would have been an easy out for students unwilling to do their work. Pretend to be interested and take the chance to go out. Still, Graves is intrigued.

“They’re worried,” Robert murmurs as they leave the classroom. “They never tried to interfere or influence the school directly before. Couldn’t make it seem like the government was controlling the school.”

“Yeah,” Graves replies, adjusting the heavy bag on his shoulder. “They’re recruiting, aren’t they?”

“They’re keeping an eye out,” Robert agrees. “Preparing.”

* * *

In the end, all of them make it into the trip roster.

Graves wishes he could say it was a surprise, but he’s honestly not too shocked. Aside from Robert and Andie’s perfect grades, the others have true interest in the trip. There is a surprising number of students the day they go to the train station.

“There must be fifty of us,” Ianto says, blowing a strand of pale hair away from his face.

“This must be overwhelming for the office,” Andie murmurs, rolling her suitcase along. “Imagine the security.”

“It’s a good thing we’re going, then,” Avery laughs. “We’re our own security.”

“Amen to that,” Robert snorts. “Come on. If we don’t hurry, we won’t get the largest cab.”

They end up, the six of them, shuffling into a compartment at the back of the train. Graves peers down the corridor, watching other students find their spots. He feels safe, not for the first time, knowing that he has a group. People to depend on.

“Come on, Val. We have a long way to go,” Andie says from behind him.

He turns, locking the door, and sits next to her. Across from him, Robert is sandwiched neatly between Avery and Bertrand. As soon as the train lurches forward, he sighs happily, swinging his legs over Avery so that he can rest his head on Bertrand’s legs. Andie stifles her laughter when Bertrand makes an amusingly raven-like, startled noise.

“So,” Robert says cheerily, “we’ll have free time when we arrive. Plans?”

Avery drums absently on Robert’s knees.

“I have heard that there is an exceptionally famous deli near our inn,” Avery muses.

“Sandwiches,” Ianto agrees, twisting colored threads together.

Graves thinks he’s making charmed bracelets, but he can’t be sure. Considering that it’s Ianto, though, it seems right. Andie and Robert are particularly good at charming mundane objects; he’s sure Andie has been teaching Ianto how to do the same.

“Why do you think they’re inviting us?” Andie muses, looking up from the book in her lap.

“Well, it has something to do with the attacks. Early recruiting?” Graves offers.

“I suppose…but it’s odd, them inviting students from different years. Wouldn’t it make more sense to look at only seventh-years? Or sixth?”

“Maybe…but maybe they’re being preventative.”

She frowns, looking back down at her book. Graves glances at the door- glass- and tilts his head.

“I think the cart’s coming our way,” he announces.

Avery perks up, almost moving, and then he looks down and pats Robert’s knees.

“Would you like anything?” he asks the boy stretched over his legs.

“No, thanks, Ave,” Robert murmurs, breathing slowly. “You go ahead.”

Avery winks at Graves, jerking his chin up towards the rack above his head. Graves nods in silent understanding, beckoning his friend’s bag over. It moves easily- not too fast- and gently lands in his waiting hand.

“You know, you’re better at that than anyone else I’ve ever seen,” Bertrand notes quietly.

“I guess. It’s useful,” Graves says, pulling a wallet out from Avery’s bag and tossing it over.

The cart arrives then and Graves stands, leaning on the doorway for support. He thinks it’s going to be a good trip.

* * *

Robert blinks lazily, watching Bertrand move. The older boy looks apologetic.

“Don’t be long,” Robert jokes, shifting upright.

Andie is asleep. Ianto seems to have taken her book at some point, turning the pages with quiet hands. Graves is looking at a map.

“You seemed tired,” Avery says, voice lower than usual, and Robert smiles.

It’s comforting to have such an enormous person by your side. He knows, logically, that size and strength can only do so much in a magical fight- but it’s still nice. Besides which, Avery is fearsome in any setting. When he’s angry, Robert is reminded of a Viking. Or Centurion. Some mythical, fantastic hero of old.

“It’s nothing,” he assures. “Just a long week.”

“It’s Monday,” Avery grins, eyes sparkling.

“Is it?”

He’s still grinning like a fool when Bertrand gets back, raising an eyebrow as if to say _do I want to know?_

“There’s a storm ahead,” Bertrand announces. “We’ll be a bit behind schedule.”

“How far behind?” Robert frowns.

“We’ll get there at eight.”

“Almost an hour late?”

“It’s a bad storm.”

Graves exchanges a glance with Robert.

“You’re worried?”

“There shouldn’t be any storms. Not this time of year, not this part of the country,” Robert says, moving towards the window.

_What’s happening?_ He remembers the attack during the summer. The random disappearances and accidents. All innocuous, but he knows better. He’s seen them happen before. His parents have. He knows all too well how wars start. One day things are fine, and the next there’s a larger attack.

“It won’t help to worry,” Avery says suddenly, pulling him back to reality.

His hand is extended, waiting. Robert exhales, letting Avery pull him back to his seat. He smiles when the older boy rests his heavy arm around his shoulders, assuring.

“If something happens, we’ll be ready,” he reminds him.

“Of course we will,” Robert replies easily. “I’m not worried. I only hope we don’t get drenched coming out at the station.”

It’s a lie, but he knows how to sound convincing. He’s had practice.

“My parents have offered to transfer me to a school in Europe for my last year,” Avery says suddenly.

“ _What_?” Andie jerks awake, blinking rapidly and rubbing her eyes.

Robert can’t bring himself to laugh.

“…will you go?”

“I thought they were busy with research,” Graves adds.

“Yes,” Avery says, leaning back in the seat. “It’s amusing that they expected to receive an answer from me.”

“They’re your parents,” Andie tries, “I’m sure they care. Maybe they don’t quite communicate it the same way you would, but they want what’s best. Don’t all parents?”

“What’s best to them is not necessarily what we want,” Bertrand says quietly.

“No matter,” Avery sighs, and Robert doesn’t miss the way his arm tightens on his shoulders. “I will not be leaving.”

“Are you sure? It’s an opportunity,” Ianto reminds him.

“I will be working in law enforcement, not International Cooperation,” Avery smiles. “I do not require anything that moving abroad would offer. Besides- my home is here.”

“Damn straight,” Robert mumbles, glaring at his shoes, trying to ignore the abating panic in his chest.

Avery laughs and Robert looks up, catching Andie’s smile just as the first drops of rain begin to fall.

* * *

“This makes me a bit uncomfortable,” Ianto says drily, the tension in his eyes betraying his cool composure.

Andie has to agree. The train is shaking, rain falling faster and harder. It’s almost pitch-black outside despite it being early evening; flashes of lightning illuminate the landscape. There seems to be nothing around for miles except plains and mountains.

“We’re fine,” she assures him, “we have protection. Charms and such.”

That’s what she says, but it doesn’t mean she feels any safer. Somehow, Avery is miraculously asleep and peaceful. Even Bertrand is dozing. She has to wonder what is says about them that they’re the only two napping through a storm.

Robert is reading her book- a rather good one, she thinks, about poetic form and meaning- when suddenly it slips from his fingers, falling onto the floor.

“How rude,” Ianto teases, picking up the volume. “How can you still be sleepy? You had such a long nap.”  
Robert’s eyes are unfocused, though, and he turns towards Avery.

“Wake up,” he says, sounding unbalanced. “Avery. _Avery._ ”

“What is it?” Andie leans forward. “Robert? Is it-?”

He hadn’t been quite the same since the abduction. None of them are sure what it is- it’s been a pet project, over the last year; they’ve all tried researching it. The things he can do with his voice- the way he can infuse them with magic. They haven’t found anything yet.

Avery’s been different, too.

He seems to have…warnings. Almost like premonitions, but not exactly. Andie’s been furious; she knows it’s probably a result of their torture. It makes her angry all over again to think about what was done to them. Whatever it was, it changed the way Robert and Avery used magic- or maybe the way it used them, she thinks.

Avery wakes suddenly, gasping in a breath of air, and Bertrand jerks awake, eyes sharp.

“Avery,” Robert murmurs, “tell me.”

“Something’s coming,” Avery says lowly, turning towards the door. “They’re going to attack from the front.”

The train jolts suddenly, screaming metal and a roaring noise, and then they’re all thrown against the windows as the car lurches.

She feels her head hit the edge of the window and thinks, _that’ll bruise_ , before she rights herself and tries to collect herself.

“Ave, you’re heavy,” Robert gasps, the other boy apologizing in a pained voice.

Her hair is in the way so she ties it back quickly, knotting the ribbon. _I have a feeling this will be a long ordeal._

“We’re still moving,” Ianto breathes, getting to his feet, wand in hand. “Why are we still moving?”

“I can’t see anything,” Bertrand says, peering out the window. “I’m opening it. Be ready.”

Andie wonders if they’ll ever have a quiet year again.

“Go,” she says, wand ready.

He wrenches the window open and they squint, rain bulleting past. It’s loud outside- wind and rain and thunder and lightning. The sky is cracked as they watch, leaning further out the window. Andie illuminates the small space, blue light glowing around them.

“Oh, god-,” she gasps, spinning back into the compartment.

Bertrand moves away from the window, mouth pressed into a line, gaze meeting hers.

_Well, fuck._

“What?” Robert asks, “What is it? _What_?”

“We’re…missing the front of the train,” Andie manages.

“…anyone have any ideas?” Bertrand asks faintly.

“…how are we still moving if the front is gone?” Graves suddenly asks, quiet.

“I don’t want to find out,” Andie says shortly, mind whirling. “Right now, we need to get everyone to a safe place. Avery, take Robert and make sure there’s no one outside this cab. Ianto, take Val and check the rest of the cab. Get everyone ready. Bertrand, come with me. We need to start clearing out the cars ahead of us.”

Everyone starts moving and for a moment, she thinks _we’ll be fine._ And maybe they will be. Still…it makes her anxious to watch them splitting up. She knows they’re stronger together.

“Hey,” she says suddenly, not sure why she spoke in the first place.

All she can see is a ghost walking away, never to come back.

“You know the S.O.S.,” she says instead. “Use it.”

* * *

“This doesn’t feel safe,” Graves murmurs. “Are Avery and Robert back yet?”

“No,” Ianto mutters, glancing behind them again.

Students are moving towards the back of the train, careful and quiet. They’re all prepared, Graves thinks, wands ready as they relocate. He wonders if they have a better chance than most- after all, they’re supposed to be star students. He only hopes that nothing is wrong outside.

“We haven’t run into anyone yet,” Andie says tightly. “It doesn’t make sense. Either they’re at the front or they’re behind us. Maybe someone should go back to help Avery and Robert.”

“They’re fine,” Bertrand interrupts. “We have two more cars to clear. Let’s finish.”

* * *

“We’re fine!” Robert yells, arms wheeling instinctively as he’s launched over the top of the train.

He can feel his heart falling into his stomach. Avery grunts, feet hitting the top of the car heavily, and his arm is tight around Robert’s waist. Their shoes are charmed just enough to make them heavier, pull them towards the mass of metal beneath their feet. Robert reminds himself not to think about how fast they’re moving.

“We are being chased. We cannot run long,” Avery reminds him, ducking a spell that crackles past them.

Robert turns, throwing a shield between them and the two men following. He knows it’ll last longer than most.

“We have to get them to the front. Away from the students!”

“Duly noted,” Avery bellows, shooting a well-placed curse over the shield. “Should we warn the others?”

“I’m sure they’re fine!”

* * *

Graves is moving towards the final car, careful, when he sees it. A black mass- something strange coagulating at the next junction.

“What the-,”

“Move!” Andie suddenly screams, pulling him away from the door.

There’s a blast as the door flies off its hinges, hitting the next divider behind them. Bertrand quickly fires a shield, hiding at the edge of the doorway.

“What was that?” Ianto asks, ducking into one of the compartments.

“I don’t know,” Graves says, pressing against the wall. “But our best bet is that Hale and Williams are being held there.”

“So. Time to rescue the professors?” Ianto asks, quickly rolling his sleeves up.

“Time to rescue the professors,” Andie agrees, sliding down the wall. “Ian, rear guard. Graves at the front. It’s you and me, Bert.”

Her smile is fierce and Graves thinks she would be a fearsome Auror. He wonders if she’d ever consider it. His own style, he knows, is heavy on the defensive. He makes wide motions when he’s working offensively; he’s heard Ianto tease him about it often enough. _Calm down, cowboy. You could be more precise._ It makes him smile.

They start to move, then, and he stops thinking about it, concentrating instead on his shield. He knows his shields can only take so much, and if he’s not fast enough, his friends will pay the price.

As soon as they move into the next car, spells fly. He can’t tell where they’re coming from- some sort of dark smoke is filling the area and the spells come from the darkness.

“We need better visibility!” he yells over the cracks and screams.

“Done!” Bertrand roars, wand moving sharply across the roof of the car, and then the top comes off.

* * *

They’re running down the length of the train when Avery grabs his shoulder, yanking him back. A fraction of a second later, the top of the car before them is ripped off, catching the wind and hurtling towards them. Robert bends back easily, holding his breath as the metal screeches overhead. He rolls over when it passes, watching with Avery as one of the men chasing them is knocked back.

“One of two,” Robert notes cheerily, breathing heavily.

“Well, that’s not fun,” Avery says.

They get to their feet quickly, catching the last man off guard, and Robert only feels a little sorry when they blast him off the train and into the edge of the nearby forest. It seems almost too simple.

“Oh, look,” Robert says, peering down into the exposed car. “There are the others.”

“They seem to have things well in hand,” Avery muses. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” Robert agrees, smiling, and he jumps with Avery over the open car.

* * *

“Did you just see someone?” Ianto asks, firing a curse at a fallen man.

“What?” Graves yells back, ducking as something filters through the top of the shield.

“Focus!” Andie yells at them, a spell cracking from her wand like a whip.

There are three men left of the seven they’d found after the smoke cleared. They can see Williams now, possibly Petrified, at the other end of the car. They seem to be doing all right so far; Graves is surprised no one has tried to take Williams hostage.

Still, his shields are getting a little weak. He’s not used to taking such a beating.

Bertrand seems to notice. He shoots his own shield, spinning closer.

“Andie- we need to hurry. Shields down and move offensive?”

She pauses, jaw set, and Graves can see the wheels turning in her head. _She’s good at protecting us,_ he thinks. _She’ll make a good teacher._

“On three,” she says firmly, shielding as she moves next to Graves. “Ianto.”

They stand side by side, shields cracking, and Graves prepares himself. _We’re some of the only ones who could do this,_ he thinks, and feels proud to be a part of a team. _I don’t know what I’ll do when we’re split up._

The last shield falls and their wands are raised, ready, a cacophony of spells ready. He thinks maybe that’s what helps make them strong- none of them do the same thing. They all have their specialties- curses, jinxes, disarming spells- and when they fight together, no one can tell how to block.

The spells blast from the car, bright and loud, and Graves watches the men before them spiral and fall under the effects of their attack. He waits, prepared, until they know all of them are down.

“That was it,” Bertrand says, turning slowly. “Was that it?”

Andie moves closer towards the door, a hand rising, suspicious.

“Something’s wrong,” she says. “If they’re all down, why are we still moving?”

“Wait!” Ianto yells, pulling her hand away from the door, and then the train jerks and he hits the divider.

Graves thinks he’ll remember the scream until the day he dies.

* * *

Robert is peering down at the invisible car when he hears it.

“Ianto,” he says faintly, turning to look at Avery.

He is furious.

“They have overstayed their welcome,” Avery says coldly. “I believe it’s time we stopped this train.”

“Agreed,” Robert hisses, wand ready, and together they crack the shield over the engine.

* * *

Graves watches the land in front of them dissolve, the engine suddenly reappearing. _What in the-_

“His eyes,” Andie says, voice wavering a little. “He needs help.”

“’M fine,” Ianto manages, leaning against a wall.

His knuckles are white where they grip a compartment door. Graves glances at Andie, then turns to Bertrand.

“We’ll go inside. Andie-,”

“Will go with you,” Williams interrupts, entering the car. “I’ll take Holliday back to the other car. I don’t like you going in there, but I can’t help.”

He’d been concussed. Graves can still see blood in the man’s hair. He knows that the professor can’t help.

“All right,” Graves says, nodding at Andie. “We’ll finish this.”

“Yes, we will,” she agrees, eyes dark. “Go.”

He shields them as they burst into the engine, ducking behind something as spells fly at them. He can hear voices- three of them- but Hale isn’t speaking.

“Tricky little children,” someone laughs, heavy footsteps moving along the floor. “Silly little kids. You’re going to get yourselves killed.”

A shiver runs up his spine and he glances at Bertrand, nodding sharply. _Now._

They burst from cover, Bertrand shielding as Graves and Andie attack. He can see Hale now, unmoving in a corner. He hopes with all of his being that the man is all right. The train rocks a little, unsteady, the spells echoing in the enclosed space.

If there’s one thing he has, it’s stamina. He’s practiced enough- his wide burst of spellwork and the sweeping motions he makes are fueled by a stamina unmatched by his friends. He has trained for endurance; he knows he can withstand a long fight without losing the energy to protect and defend a large group of people. Still, he is young and his body can only take so much.

One man falls. The other two are still fighting when something hits Andie, her yell angry as she falls behind a piece of equipment.

“Andie?!”

“My arm,” she yells back, “I’ll need a moment.”

They’re struggling. The men are not like the others they encountered- they’re older, and trained. He knows the odds- they are students; one of them is barely about to graduate. They know little and have experienced less. Still, he hopes beyond hope that they can win. Live.

He’s just thinking that when his foot is pulled out from underneath him, some spell bringing him down, and he’s pulled towards the smiling man before him.

“Who have we got here?”

_This is it,_ he thinks, _we can’t do this anymore. We can’t._

“Excuse me,” someone says, and Graves blinks as the windows at the front of the car seem to waver like a mirage. “That’s my friend you have there. **Get your paws off**.”

The man looks terrified, his hand suddenly releasing Graves, and then a whirl of gold knocks him off his feet. Robert’s laugh echoes in the car as Avery barrels through, almost appearing out of nowhere, hexing the living daylights out of the man fighting Bertrand.

It’s suddenly too quiet and Graves turns, blinking, surveying the damage.

“Well,” Hale suddenly says, pulling himself up to rest against the wall, “I’d say you’ve all earned extra credit. And look- we’re here.”

* * *

The incident is under investigation. The other students are unharmed, although both Williams and Ianto are taken in for examinations. The five of them sit outside, waiting for entry into their friend’s room.

A nurse walks out of the room, pausing, raising an eyebrow at them. She looks a little sorry, but also happy.

“You can go in,” she says, and before she finishes Robert is already by the door.

“I’m fine,” Ianto immediately says, but that doesn’t stop Robert from hugging him.

“What did they say?” Andie asks, sitting on the edge of his bed.

“I’ll have scars,” he muses. “Scars are cool, right?”

“Absolutely,” Avery grins, leaning over him. “Especially curse scars. _Very_ intimidating.”

“Your sight?” Bertrand asks, perceptive.

“It…will get better,” Ianto manages. “It’s a bit fuzzy now.”

“Fuzzy?”

“I’m fine,” Ianto sighs. “Now I know what it feels like to need glasses.”

“Well. Your sight will be fine _and_ you’ll have battle scars,” Robert says. “I’m starting to think you got the better end of this deal.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. All I got from this escapade was a heart attack. Thank you for that roof, Bertrand, it was a _lovely_ gift.”

Graves grins, leaning against the bed, and listens to his friends’ laughter. Maybe they’ll never have a quiet year, he thinks, but maybe he’d never want it any other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took some time to get back to work, but here you have it. Some interesting mentions of Graves' wandwork and a lively trip. For your patience, here is some trivia- let me know if you'd like the last chapter (after the next one) to be a collection of vignettes about them.  
> 1) Avery has kissed Robert.  
> 2) Andie has been in trouble for cursing someone.  
> 3) Ianto accidentally punched Bertrand once. Hard.  
> 4) Graves had his clothes stolen once. Andie took pictures.  
> 5) Robert was bullied by members of the Quidditch team into asking the captain out. He said yes.


	7. Year Five, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's their fifth year; Bertrand's graduation is impending, Robert is suffering the aftermath of his imprisonment, and everyone is facing uncomfortable truths about themselves and their relationships. Even with all that's happening, though, they still find time to enjoy the little moments.

They’re sitting by the lake.

It’s one of their favorite meeting spots. The water is placid and cool, reflecting the blue of the sky. The weather is nice- it’s mid-fall, the heat giving way to cool breezes and fluffy clouds. They have a free period now, interestingly, and somehow it had magically lined up to be the last class on Friday. The weekend starts early for them.

Graves is leaning against a tree, lazily weaving grass together. Robert, lying on his stomach nearby, is constructing a crown woven with daisies. Bertrand is nearby, at Robert’s feet, reading a book.

“Hey,” Andie manages, suddenly appearing with Ianto. “It’s been a long day.”

Her bag hits the ground heavily, the thump softened by the grass. Ianto inches down, legs folding beneath him as he leans back on his hand.

“Where’s Avery?”

“Getting food,” Graves murmurs, weaving in a yellow-green blade of grass.

“So- there’s going to be an embassy ball,” Robert suddenly says, reaching for a pink flower just beyond his reach. Ianto plucks it easily, passing it over. Graves hums.

“What about it?”

“My father says it’ll be open to students. If you have a family presence or interest in MACUSA, you can submit your name.”

“You just want to go dancing,” Andie says fondly.

“Of course!”

Avery approaches then, cavalierly juggling apples.

“Of course, what?”

“Rob wants us to go to the embassy ball so he can dance.”

Avery laughs, tossing an apple to Graves. It’s delicious.

“I see no reason why not.”

“Exactly!” Robert cries, jumping up, flower crown in hand.

“Well, then we must practice,” Avery says seriously, eyes sparkling with humor.

Graves chuckles, watching Avery place the crown on top of Robert’s unruly hair. Even Bertrand stops reading, looking up with a half-smile to watch his friends.

“Come on, old boy,” Robert says theatrically, twining their fingers together. “Time to dance!”

Andie laughs, twisting the stem off an apple, and Graves shakes his head even as he’s smiling. There is nothing, he thinks, better than this. Nothing better than an evening by the lake, with a soft breeze and friends he loves. People he wants to protect for the rest of his life, even as they protect him.

And then they’re interrupted.

“Oh, how sweet,” Jordan sneers.

_Of course,_ Graves thinks, because it wouldn’t be a year unless one of the Horned Snake’s proudest were harassing them. He stays where he is, though, because ever since Avery outgrew the other students, the most they’ll do is heckle. Not that Avery is above physical confrontation- he’s come close many times, especially where Robert and Ianto are concerned.

“Do you need something?” Bertrand asks, unusually vocal.

Graves can see the mutinous expression on his face. It’s interesting. Robert had always warned Bertrand against getting involved- _you live in those dorms, Bert- what if they do something?_

“Do _I_? What do you think, boys?”

Jordan’s cronies- whoever they are this year- sneer and laugh. Graves is unimpressed.

“Do you require something, Jordan?” he asks, finally aggravated enough to respond. “Or are you simply here to test the boundaries of expulsion rules?”

“Is that a threat, kitty cat?”

Jordan leans closer, looming in front of the sun. Graves ignores him, glancing over at Robert. His face is stony, but something in it is closed off. Even the daisies in his hair seem less bright. It makes Graves angry- _why should he suffer the ignorance of cruel children? Of anyone who takes issue with the fact that he’s happy?_

“Wait- wait, don’t tell me. Has he been… _helping_ you, too? I’ve heard your little princess over there is quite adept when he’s not wearing a mask,” Jordan laughs.

Things happen quickly. Graves sees _fire_ in Andie’s eyes as she rises and he jumps up, hearing Ianto and Bertrand rise as well. They aren’t fast enough, though, because Andie suddenly _knees him_ and then swings a fist at his nose.

It takes about ten seconds, but Jordan’s scream of agony and the way his nose is clearly broken makes Graves feel like it was an hour instead. He can hear the sound of five jaws collectively dropping to the ground.

“Give me a reason,” Andie hisses, rolling her foot over his neck where he’s lying on the ground.

“Aaah-! She’s _crazy_ , get her _off_!”

It’s darkly amusing when Jordan’s cronies run off, nervous, and the injured boy tries to roll to his feet. Andie watches him, eyes narrowed, and easily grabs his tie when he tries to turn away.

“Well? You have what you _needed_. It’s too bad it’s not what you wanted,” she smirks.

Graves is almost too distracted to see the professor walking their way. Almost.

“Andie,” he says quietly instead, watching the teacher approach.

She pauses, glaring straight into Jordan’s eyes, and then she drops his tie.

“I suggest you make yourself scarce,” she says lightly. “Unless you’d like to stay and tell the teacher how I broke your nose. And…something else.”

She only lets Jordan turn before she whips out her wand, eyes sharp, a curse flying from her tongue. It sounds, Graves thinks, like something nasty and related to slugs. Graves watches Jordan run, green, ignoring the professor as he rushes past, and then Avery whistles lowly.

“That was a bad idea,” Ianto submits, but he’s hiding a smile. He’s also staring.

“Very,” Bertrand agrees faintly, still visibly surprised.

“Oh, bad- it was a _fun_ idea, _very_ entertaining,” Avery chuckles, patting Andie’s shoulder.

“You’re fine?” Graves asks quietly.

“I’m fine,” she agrees, sighing. “Much better, actually.”

“You didn’t have to,” Robert says gently.

“I did,” she smiles, turning to hug him. “For me.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I think the first hit was for you. The second was for me,” he laughs.

The professor- Williams, Graves notices- approaches with a raised eyebrow.

“Mind explaining, Miss Gillespie?”

“My apologies, Professor Williams,” Andie says, contrite. “I’m not sure why he ran off.”

“Is that so?” The man raises an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement crossing his face. “Well. I can’t speak to the context of this particular incident…but I will require your presence for the next three days. My office, ten to noon.”

“Yes, Professor,” Andie replies, demure.

Williams glances over the group, eyes bright, and he looks off to the lake when he speaks next.

“I’ve always found it effective to hit below and use the momentum to pull the target’s head into your knee. It’s a better break,” he muses placidly, before turning away and walking back to the school.

He gets five feet away before they dissolve into laughter. _Yes,_ Graves thinks, _there is nothing better._

* * *

* * *

“My mother wants to meet you all,” Andie says, sounding as if her teeth are being pulled.

“…um…is that bad?” Graves watches her, resting his chin on his hand. He knows something is off. She’s never talked about her parents before; all he knows is that she lives somewhere in the country.

“No- it’s…I don’t know,” she says, sounding a little miserable.

“Would it bother you, if we were to visit?” Robert asks kindly.

“…no. I’d like you to meet them,” Andie decides, looking determined. “We can meet in the city and I’ll bring you to the house.”

It’s two days until break and Graves plans, thinking only that he should probably wear something more casual than what his parents usually like him to wear. He assumes, feeling a little guilty, that she has a humble family- why else would she never talk about them around the others? He knows his family is important; Robert’s father and mother both work government jobs; Avery’s parents are researchers…Bertrand comes from new money and Ianto is at least comfortable around the upper class.

The first day of break, they all meet in the city. It’s a small one, with few cars and local shopfronts. It feels comfortable without being isolated; modern without being futuristic.

“Hey,” Andie smiles, approaching from a small shop.

“Hello,” Avery beams, “we are excited to meet your family.”

“Right,” Andie manages, looking a little overwhelmed. “Yes. Um. I should let you know- I have…younger siblings.”

“Lovely!” Robert cheers. “Oh, I’m always so nervous around children…”

“I don’t think it’s possible for anyone, of any age, to dislike you,” Ianto says drily.

They walk along the street, following the curve out of the city. It’s a nice day, a gentle breeze drifting by the green landscape. There’s a small hill and as they climb it, Graves can see a small house coming into view at the edge of the forest. It looks warm, with a small garden barely visible at the back. There is a smaller structure next to it- a guest house, he thinks, or perhaps a shed. He can hear what sounds like music coming from inside the house.

Just as they reach the path, the front door bursts open and a boy Andie’s age comes running out, a smaller girl close on his heels.

“Andie!” the boy screams, jumping, and Ianto laughs when the boy launches himself into her arms. They’re about the same height.

“ _Oof-_ Aggie, please,” Andie laughs, rocking back on her heels. “You’re too old for this!”

“ _You’re_ too old,” Aggie laughs, bumping his forehead against his sister’s.

“I like this boy,” Avery booms, smiling, and then he peers down at the girl. She is small- maybe six, Graves thinks, but he’s a terrible judge of age. He always feels awkward around children.

“Who are you?” the girl asks, brow furrowed, and Avery laughs.

“Avery.”

“A-vurry,” the girl repeats, frowning. “That’s weird.”

“Oh, yes. What is your name?”

“Lyra. My brother and sister have funny names, too.”

Someone calls from inside the house then- Graves can’t quite hear- and the little girl turns to run inside. The boy- Aggie, Graves thinks- turns to the others.

“I’m Aquila. It _is_ a weird name. I blame mother.”

“Constellations?” Bertrand asks, tilting his head.

“Yes,” Aggie beams.

Graves notices, curious, that Aggie looks almost identical to Andie. He has the same dark brown hair and warm eyes- even the same straight nose, the same slight downward curve. In fact…

“You’re twins,” Graves realizes, blinking.

“We are,” Andie says, a slight nervousness rising in her voice.

_So that’s why._

Her siblings- or at least Aggie- don’t have magic. That’s why, he thinks, she never really mentioned them. People are judgmental and she’s had no reason to trust anyone but her closest friends. Still, he can see why she didn’t tell them either. They’re all from relatively prominent or traditional families. There is no way she could have expected them to accept it.

“Welcome,” a voice says as they enter, and Graves almost has a heart attack. Her father, he decides, looks like a true woodsman. He looks rough around the edges, but not in a bad way- just a little scruffy.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Graves manages, extending a hand, and the man smiles.

“Charles,” he introduces himself, and Graves notices the remnants of some accent in his voice.

“Don’t leave them standing around, dear,” Andie’s mother says, peering into the room. “Dinner’s ready.”

It’s a wonderful dinner. Andie’s parents- Charles and Linda- are cheerful and pleasant. They seem excited to meet Andie’s friends and chatter happily about their gifted daughter and how she has _magic_.

“It’s nice to see she’s made friends,” Charles smiles, glancing at his daughter. “We thought it might be hard for her without Aggie.”

“Dad, you know she’s fine. _I’m_ the one languishing,” Aggie says dramatically, a hand against his forehead.

Robert laughs brightly and Graves isn’t surprised when Linda invites him and Avery to her telescope in the backyard. The guest house- which, they explain, is rented out to travelers- is set up for them. They’re invited to breakfast in the morning, which is apparently the best thing Linda is capable of making in the kitchen, and Charles reminds them to be careful in the woods at night.

“There’s a nice lake,” he mentions, “but it can be dark. Keep an eye out for each other.”

* * *

Avery decides they have to go to the lake at night.

“When the sky is clear, it looks like the entire universe is lying at your feet,” Andie says, smiling, and Robert votes to go.

“How could we _not_?” he grins, jumping up from his bed, pulling his boots back on.

They traipse through the forest, trying to be quiet as they pass by the house. It’s pleasantly cool- there is still some warmth left from the day and the air is still. Graves finds himself smiling for no reason, enjoying the feel of the earth beneath his feet. It’s nice.

The lake is further in, a small path leading off towards the city.

“There shouldn’t be anyone around,” Andie says, “we have neighbors, but I don’t think they’ll come here at night.”

The lake is just like Andie described. Robert insists on climbing a tree to look down at it, Bertrand warning him to be careful the entire time. Avery amuses himself with finding flowers, humming all the while, his shirt stretched to gather the bouquet he’ll no doubt gift to Robert. Graves walks the perimeter of the lake, passing the small wood pier as he goes. It’s a beautiful place—a reminder of the natural beauty of the country, untouched by steam trains and smoking factories. Graves wonders if this kind of thing will survive, later—these green places. He loves them, even if he rarely gets to see them. There’s something about the tranquility of nature that helps him reconnect to magic. It helps Avery and Robert, too, he thinks; especially since their abduction.

“It’s warm,” Ianto notices, surprised, drawing his hand out of the water. “Is it magic?”

“It’s nature.” Andie laughs, slipping her shoes off to dangle her feet off the edge of the pier. Avery quickly follows along, gingerly placing his mass of flowers at the edge of the lake.

They all sit on the wood, Robert joining after he’s had his fill of the stars. Andie is talking about something—some sort of festival in the town—when Robert abruptly stands and starts pulling his shirt over his head.

“What are you doing?” Ianto asks, sounding mildly scandalized and entirely worried for his friend’s mental health. Robert laughs, tugging when the collar gets stuck on his curls.

“You said it yourself—the water’s warm,” Robert says cheerily. Avery roars with laughter before jumping to his feet, practically popping the buttons from his shirt as he yanks it off. Graves doesn’t miss the way Bertrand stares at Robert. It looks like he’s lost all power to think.

“Heavens, save me,” Andie groans, covering her face with her hands. “I swear, if any of you get sick—,”

“We won’t!” Robert cheers before jumping in, the splash rippling the sheet of stars reflected on the lake’s surface. Avery is in only a second later, avoiding Robert by a mile when he dives. They both cheerily splash around for a few minutes while Graves watches.

_I have a lake at home,_ he thinks, _but I could never do something like this there._

He’s in the water after two seconds, feeling a grin split his face as he launches off the pier. Andie is shaking her head, but Robert congratulates him, giggling when Avery lifts him onto his shoulders. They make a peculiar image, the broad-shouldered Avery and smaller Robert. Graves isn’t sure what he’s doing in the water, but he thinks maybe that’s the point. He contents himself with exploring the depths, relaxing as Avery attempts to do a handstand. The others are still at the pier until Andie calls out to them.

“I’m going back for towels!”

They yell back their thanks, Ianto going with Andie along the path as Bertrand dangles his legs into the lake. Robert swims up to him to try to convince him to join them.

“Come on, Bert. It’s _lovely_ ,” Robert sighs, turning in a circle, smiling like the sun despite the dark night.

“Not today,” Bertrand says fondly, looking down at Robert’s wet curls.

_He really does love him,_ Graves thinks. He’s fully aware he’s a little late to the party on that revelation, but in his defense, Bertrand is hard to read and Robert simply loves _everyone_. It makes Graves feel a little melancholy to think about them—with Bertrand going away, he isn’t sure what will come of it. He’s certain that Robert is waiting on Bertrand, but Graves doesn’t know if Bertrand will ever answer. If he even can. _I hope he does._ There’s nothing he wants more than happiness for his friends. _If there’s one thing I want, it’s for them to be safe. These people that have stayed with me. Chosen me._

Graves’ family has always been a birthright. He was never really a choice—he was the unavoidable; the heir to be had and trained. He’s never been resentful of the fact—he understands, and he is proud of his family legacy. It’s always left him a little empty, though. Or at least it did, before he met his friends. Before he met the family that chose him.

“Hey!” Robert shouts, waving his hands. Bertrand turns, immediately on edge and ready to reach for his wand until he sees the people behind him.

The boys—they must be no older than Graves and his friends—are running away, a few items in their arms, cackling their way through the woods. Andie yells at them, suddenly appearing on the path from her house, but they are long gone by the time she gets there. Robert is laughing in disbelief even as she approaches.

“I’m sorry,” Andie says, glancing in the thieves’ direction. “They’re the neighbor boys—I’ll have to go around tomorrow.”

“It was my fault,” Bertrand says, apologetic. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

Avery pulls himself from the lake easily, arms flexing. He helps Robert out with no effort, turning to lift Graves. Andie hands out the towels—which are amusingly small to Avery—while they look through their clothes.

Somehow, Graves is the only one missing his things.

“Oh, no,” Andie says, but she’s covering her mouth and her voice is wavering. “I’m sorry. I, um—I can—,”

“It’s no problem,” Graves says, trying to cling to the shreds of his dignity. He’s stripped down to his underwear, wet and more disheveled than he’s ever been in his life. There’s something refreshing about it, actually.

“Here. Just for the walk back,” Bertrand says, unbuttoning his shirt. As much as Graves finds being half-naked novel, he still accepts the shirt. Apparently, it’s Robert’s turn to stare. He wordlessly passes a towel to Bertrand, studiously avoiding his eyes. If not for the moonlight, Graves is sure he’d be blushing.

They make their way back to the cabin, where Ianto makes hot chocolate. The next morning, they join Andie on an amusing trip to the neighbors’ house. They manage to get Graves’ clothes back, amidst chuckles from the adults and pouts from the teenagers.

When the group leave two days later, Robert presses a coin into each of their hands.

“So we can talk,” he explains, smiling. They have tiny holes in them. “If you press it and think of each other, you’ll know.”

“A wonderful charm,” Avery grins. He slips his coin onto the cord around his neck, which already has a heavy metal ring dangling from it.

Graves threads his coin onto the chain of his pocket watch, the family crest glistening brightly below the duller metal. He looks at it the entire way home, smiling to himself. _The family that chose me,_ he thinks, tracing the edge of the coin. He wouldn’t trade them for anything in the world.

* * *

* * *

“What is it? I’ve always meant to ask.”

Avery is toying with his bracelet—the one Robert had given him for Christmas, what seems like a lifetime ago. Graves notices only because he’s stopped poring over his book on Unspeakable Magic, which Ianto pilfered from the library with his usual ghostlike skill.

“Charmed. Look—these are runes. Ancient ones, used by Nordic wizards in times far past. Few know about them and fewer can guess at what they mean.”

“So, what does it do?”

“It’s a connection,” Avery says, breaking eye contact to stare at the metal as he twists it around his wrist. He doesn’t say much more and Graves doesn’t ask.

They are approaching a holiday break. Thanksgiving, the first break of the year and a reminder that the first half of the semester is nearly over. In the few days leading up to the break, most students are studying and getting ahead, hoping to spend their week off doing absolutely nothing. Graves wishes he could, too. Unfortunately, there are formal dinners and appearances to make, especially now that he’s a fifth-year and there are only two years left of his schooling. He is slowly being pushed more and more into the limelight, a constant reminder of his legacy at every corner. Just the other day, he ran into an underclassman that nearly collapsed when they’d realized who he was. It wasn’t pleasant.

“Are you done studying?”

Graves almost has a heart attack when Ianto speaks from behind him. He turns to peer over his shoulder, vaguely exhausted by the shock, and Ianto has the good grace to look contrite—or as much as he can, because his wire-rimmed glasses and freckled nose make him seem more peevish than anything else. The glasses are new, of course, and do a remarkable job at making his curse scars on his eyes look less grisly and more artful.

“I wasn’t,” Graves says, sighing as he shuts his book. “But now, I am.”

He doesn’t explain that he wasn’t studying. He was doing what all of them—or all but one of them—do in their spare time, which is relentlessly comb old books for any kind of information on Robert’s spoken magic. They all also have an unspoken agreement never to let Robert know what they are doing, both because he would protest and because even he is still wildly uncomfortable with his power.

When Robert had stopped the wizard on the train, after they had all been attacked, he’d been sporting a small nosebleed. No one had taken much notice at first—after all, it had been a messy fight—but then Robert had continued to get worse, pale and shaking and increasingly distant. He had barely spoken the day after the attack. Andie had chalked it up to nerves, but Avery had been insistent that something was wrong. Their worries had culminated in Robert passing out from sheer exhaustion, after which he seemed perfectly normal, but the group had all attacked their extracurricular reading with renewed energy.

And now, there’s more.

“I don’t know why you don’t just come. My parents love you,” Andie says, following Robert into the study room that Avery, Graves, and Ianto are already occupying. “And my siblings would trade me for you. Even Aggie.”

“I can’t,” Robert says simply, “I’m busy. I’ll be making gifts, here. Very nice ones, too, so remember to be grateful, come Christmas.”

“We’re grateful for you all year round,” Avery says, chuckling. Robert grins and immediately deposits himself in Avery’s lap, letting the larger boy link his arms around him comfortably.

“What is he not doing, now?” Bertrand asks, ducking inside. Lately, he’s been letting his hair grow longer, pushed away from his face with effortless grace. Graves hasn’t missed the way he’s attracted a small following, students whispering and giggling and waiting in the hallways for him to get out of class. Bertrand seems to have matured all at once, his lankiness translating into an elegance beyond his years. He looks like he would be most at home in a suit, unlike Graves, who cannot find it in himself to tolerate the stiff collar forced on him during family meetings.

“Rob isn’t going home for Thanksgiving,” Andie says, a little hesitant to reveal the fact. _Ah._ It’s another thing they don’t talk about; how Robert’s parents are always away. They are high up enough to be of importance in MACUSA, but low down enough not to have the luxury of time away.

“Why don’t you—,” Bertrand starts, probably about to suggest something that’s been said, but Robert groans dramatically and flops his head back onto Avery’s shoulder.

Graves does _not_ miss the way Bertrand tenses. It’s very transparent of him, and Graves wonders whether Robert is simply that oblivious or whether something has happened between them.

“I’m staying here,” Robert says primly. “Besides, I won’t be alone. Avery will be here.”

“Oh, good. That’s not asking for trouble,” Ianto says drily, suddenly on the other side of the room. Graves stares at him, determined not to blink. “As fascinating as this is, we all know Robert’s going to win. Can we get dinner, now?”

* * *

“I have a favor to ask,” Robert says, lying on his stomach on the only couch in the room. Andie is off somewhere looking for parchment and Ianto is in the library with Avery to steal more books. Graves isn’t sure how that will go. Bertrand is in the hallway, speaking to some student who had asked him to talk as he came out of the dining hall.

“What?”

“You’re going to be having important dinners over break. More of Christmas, too.”

“Yes,” Graves prompts, when Robert bites his lip and stops.

“I know you’ll run into Bert and his family. It’s just—he’s not on the best terms with them.”

“Really? But it was so long ago.” He remembers Bertrand’s arguments with his parents, just after Robert had been found. It seems like such a trite thing to be angry about, especially given the success of the rescue.

“It’s not that,” Robert says, sighing. “It’s everything else. They don’t really…understand him. They would rather he be a politician, or an Auror of some sort.”

“I thought he was going to work for MACUSA anyway?”

“Maybe—but something tells me it’s not for fighting. He’s always been more interested in learning. Protecting. You know he never fought back when he was bullied.”

“Neither do you,” Graves points out, but he knows it’s true. Robert doesn’t fight because Robert always has a plan. There’s always a reason. Bertrand, though…

“Bert doesn’t fight because he feels like he doesn’t learn anything from it,” Robert says. “He doesn’t fight because he knows he can beat them. It takes up too much energy. Bert is a Horned Serpent, Val. He’ll always be thinking and learning and strategizing.”

“Those are traits valued in defense.”  
“Maybe. But he’s also seen firsthand effects of strange magic. Twisted magic.”

_He’s talking about himself._ And then, with utter certainty, Graves realizes that Robert knows. He knows that his friends have been studying behind his back, trying to find some way to help him. To learn what it is he and Avery suffer from. _He knows and he’s already beating himself up about it. How could we not notice?_

“Rob—,”

“Promise me, Val. Just promise me you’ll keep an eye on him. I don’t want him burning all the bridges he has. He might need them one day. When he—when he wants to run.”

“He’s not going to run,” Graves says firmly. He isn’t sure what they’re talking about anymore, but he knows that much. “Even if _you_ told him, he wouldn’t.”

Robert smiles but it’s the saddest thing Graves has ever seen and he wants to erase it. He wants it to leave, because the cold thing doesn’t belong in the room. He pulls Robert close, never sure about contact but always sure that Robert needs it. He needs it, having missed so many days and weeks and months with his parents. Robert has missed this touch, in years of being beaten and teased. If Graves can give him one minute back, he’ll do it.

“Thank you, Val.”

* * *

They’re sitting around the common area; Avery smuggled Robert in sometime at night, but Robert thinks it might have been early morning because of the blue in the black sky. The school is almost empty, few students left behind in the holiday rush. Avery is doing something on the other end of the couch; Robert is curled up by the arm, knees pulled close to his chest, writing with a sleek pen in a notebook.

“I understand why you don’t,” Avery muses, somewhat sleepily. Robert looks up to see him threading leather together carefully in a woven strand. “But what about Bertrand? There is no lack of love between you.”

_Of course, it would be this conversation._ Of course, so early in the morning. So late in their friendship. With Avery. Robert stares at the ink on the page before him, wondering if it will smear when he touches it. Avery is quiet, at least, and he doesn’t push. He never does.

“There is no lack of love between us,” Robert echoes, but it’s a different _us_. Avery is quiet. He doesn’t say _that’s not an answer,_ but he doesn’t have to. “I know. I’m patient.”

“And you believe your patience will be rewarded? There should be no rewards in love.”

“Maybe not. Maybe I’m selfish,” Robert murmurs, closing his book. He opens it again and sees the little ghostly smears, grey-black and reaching for the edge of the page, trying to escape. “I can’t stand to pour my feelings into a well, but I’m too stubborn to walk away from it.”

“You are stubborn,” Avery agrees, smiling faintly. His tone is serious when he speaks again. “Is there something wrong? Why does he not simply return your affection?”

“There are many reasons, I suspect. His family—he holds ties still, even if he wants to be cut off. His fear. I think he wants to be able to fix me.”

“You do not need fixing,” Avery says firmly, more serious still, and he leans over Robert’s knees to look into his eyes.

“I know,” Robert says simply. He likes the warmth Avery brings as he leans on Robert’s legs, chins resting on his knees. “He does, too. I think most of all, he wants to be better. There’s a lot that he feels he doesn’t deserve.”

“None of these reasons seem sensible,” Avery mutters. He looks like a pouting dog, with his shining gold hair and bright eyes.

“I do love you, too.”

“I know.” Avery grins.

“Of course, you do,” Robert sighs, pretending to be disappointed. “An earth-shattering confession, and he says _I know_. How unromantic.”

Robert certainly isn’t prepared for Avery to lean fully over his knees, hands warm where they keep him balanced, and kiss Robert. There is no way to prepare for it—no warning, really, even if it feels as simple as talking. As if nothing has changed. Robert wonders if it has always been there—an understanding, not of some epic romance like the one they’re discussing but of a quieter support that feels just as deep. _Hm. Soul mates,_ Robert thinks. He wonders if their ancestors met in a past life, some Viking meeting a Spaniard with a penchant for adventure.

“Romantic.” Avery grins as if he knows exactly what Robert is thinking.

“I guess it is, kind of,” Robert agrees.

They fall asleep in the common room, the fire crackling as the cold escapes into corners, fleeing the quiet figures on the couch. For once, Robert doesn’t have nightmares—and for once, he suspects, Avery doesn’t have to think about being so alone.

* * *

Graves and Bertrand spend most of the dinner in a corner, avoiding all contact with others while holding crystalline glasses of things they’ll never drink. For the first time, Graves had been sent to town to buy a suit by himself. The result is pleasant—and for once, he actually understands the appeal of dressing richly. Not that he’d ever wear a suit to school. Not with the friends he has, and the adventures they manage to become entangled in.

“I can’t believe this,” Bertrand mutters, staring off into the crowd. Graves follows his gaze—there are Bertrand’s parents, talking to some rich family or other, their daughter at the forefront, pearls hanging from her ears.

Graves recognizes the maneuver. Options being presented, like so many finely decorated cakes. He’s always found it repulsive, not because of the idea of marriage but because of the way it suggests value. As if the young women are being sold. He always imagines Andie in these situations, now, with her fiery gaze and defiant attitude. Graves can’t consider Andie being treated this way, and by extension he considers the act absurd for any thinking, breathing, human.

“It won’t come to much,” Graves murmurs, watching the way Bertrand’s mother briefly touches her earring, as if adjusting it. “Your mother doesn’t approve.”

“Forgive me if that isn’t relieving,” Bertrand says, but he glances at Graves with some curiosity and acknowledgment in his eyes. “They’re desperate. They’ll listen to anyone, just to have a chance to tie me down before I leave.”

“Leave?”

“They suspect. I plan to join MACUSA, and not as one of their precious knight-Aurors,” Bertrand says drily. “I won’t be a suit of armor rusting on the shelf.”

“That’s poetic,” Graves says shortly, remembering Robert’s warning. “But you might want to consider waiting to announce your grand plans until you have independence.”

“I am independent.”

“You’re seventeen, and still in school. You’re not,” Graves says. He holds nothing back, both because he knows Bertrand can handle it and because he thinks it’s what Robert would say. _He knows I’m right._ Bertrand is in the precarious position of heir, and it’s one that Graves knows well. If he makes one wrong move, he will not only have given his parents an excuse, but he will also doom himself before he has a chance to even get away.

“I have to tell them. They’ll find out either way—and if they find out after making arrangements, it will be worse. Far worse.”

“You’re right in that respect, but not much else. Bertrand, please. Not here. There are almost fifty people in attendance,” Graves says, going for the last scrap of logic available to him. He’s not above using wandless magic, but he’d rather not do that to his friend. _But I promised_.

Whatever he’s going to do, it has to happen fast. Bertrand crosses the room and Graves wonders where all the Horned Snake qualities have gone—the planning and maneuvering. _If he’s trying to be calm and calculated, then he’s terrible at math,_ Graves thinks, with no little amount of amusement. He wonders just how much Bertrand has resisted his title that he seems to know nothing of the subtle maneuvers of the grand wizarding families of America. Graves sighs, following his friend with just enough distance between them to merit interruption if Bertrand starts to spill his plans.

Bertrand’s parents are surprised. They don’t show it outwardly, of course, but Graves notices the small changes in posture and the little tells they have. Bertrand greets them formally and his parents make cool remarks. They are gearing up for the conversation. Graves prepares to step in just as Bertrand opens his mouth.

“I must tell you—,”

Bertrand never finishes, because a fist flies at his face and effectively knocks him sideways, stumbling, into Graves. _What in the world?_ Bertrand’s parents are just as shocked, following Graves’ and Bertrand’s eyes toward the source of the punch.

“Ianto?” Graves manages, his voice faint with shock.

“What— _Bert_? Oh, honestly—I’m so sorry, someone just barreled right into me,” Ianto gasps, quickly moving toward his friends. Graves can see the person in question shoving their way through the crowd—some disgruntled miser—but he turns his attention to Bertrand, who seems perplexed.

“How very unusual,” Graves says smoothly, seeing calculations running behind the eyes of both Bertrand’s parents. Things can go very badly, he knows—there is blame to be easily appointed, and it could be devastating to Ianto, who is effectively invited because of the promise he has shown as a candidate for MACUSA and its International Cooperation department.

“Unusual indeed,” Ianto says, clearly aware of the situation. He addresses Bertrand’s parents then, guiding their son with a careful hand. “Pardon me. I’ll see to this right away.”

The three friends leave the adults standing wordless at the edge of the room, sneaking off to the dimly-lit patio. Graves almost sighs in relief when they get outside, away from the crowd and any possible fallout. He watches Ianto examine Bertrand’s face with careful fingers, pale and quick.

“You’ll live,” Ianto says, training his wand on Bertrand’s nose. He utters a quick charm and Bertrand bites back a grunt, a hiss of pain escaping through his teeth.

“Not the way I was going to get you to keep your mouth shut, but effective,” Graves says drily. Bertrand gives him a halfhearted glare, but there’s understanding in his eyes.

_And they say Wampus houses hotheads._ Ianto asks what they’re going on about, no-nonsense as he combs his pale hair absently with his hand. Graves leaves Bertrand to the explanation, guiding them inside and toward the table of food, which everyone has been politely avoiding. They stack their plates with little regard for the overblown niceties of high society and by the time they finish their artistically-crafted crackers, Ianto is positively breathless from sighing.

“I’m glad I punched you,” Ianto says, flipping his plate into a bin without looking.

“Show-off,” Bertrand mutters, nearly missing the same bin with his napkin.

Graves smiles to himself and manages to invite them both to his house, maneuvering it with his parents in a way he suspects makes them proud. He’s glad at least to have kept his promise, and even more relived that it seems like Bertrand has been pulled back from a dangerous ledge. The last thing they need is for one of their own to go missing forever, visible but out of reach. Graves is sure Robert wouldn’t appreciate it, and Bertrand doesn’t seem the type to enjoy a gilded cage.

“I wonder what Rob and Avery are doing,” Bertrand murmurs as they trek over the hill after the dinner, making their way to Graves’ family carriage.

“Avery is laughing,” Ianto says immediately.

“And Robert is making him laugh,” Graves agrees, smiling. _And all is right in the world._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello from the other side...other side being how many months later...  
> I apologize for the hiatus!!! I moved halfway across the country and went through some major things, myself. Rest assured, I've been reading all of your comments and I appreciate all of you more than I can ever communicate. Your feedback and love for my OCs and my take on Graves has given me light in the darkest times. I see all of your questions- about Bertrand, Robert, Bertrand and Robert....about the kids' families and why they do what they do and all their little secrets. Hopefully, this chapter starts to answer those.  
> I want you to be part of this. I love when you make assumptions or guesses because I always want these characters to be partly yours- for you to have an idea of how they look and what they do and why, beyond what I tell you. They're not just mine, anymore.  
> Anyway! I hope you enjoyed this installment, and there will be more to come. Please, as always, leave your comments and ideas. I read them all.  
> Thank you.


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